Whole
by Ketharil
Summary: Post-NJO; Kyp and Jaina work together and discover a few things along the way. Better than the summary. Sequel to Broken. WIP.
1. Chapter 1

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 1 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Jacen felt his sister slip into the room, and he turned to smile at her.  She smiled back, but didn't move up to him.  He bent and placed his son safely in bed.

            "He's gotten bigger," Jaina said softly from the doorway as Jacen tucked blankets securely around Veren.

            "Children tend to do that," Jacen agreed, though his hand hovered protectively over Veren's shoulder for a long moment.  The wonder was still there, the awe that this was _his son_.  He didn't think he would ever outgrow it.

            He forced himself to turn away, and dimmed the lights on his way to the door.  He turned to his sister.

            Jaina was standing before him, watching him with the mocking half-smile that she had somehow grown into while pretending to be the Trickster Goddess.  She wore a simple long skirt and a short tunic, both the same grey as her military uniform.  "The great _Jeedai_ Jacen Solo," she teased.  "Finally brought low by a one-year-old princeling."

            Jacen felt his grin grow across his face, and didn't both to try and stop it.  "Wait til you have children of your own," he said mildly. 

            The mocking half-smile spread into a grin that matched his own.  Jaina stepped forward and linked her arm through his.  "Come on. I'm kidnapping you."

            "Really," he drawled. 

            "Uh-huh."  Jaina led him down the hall, through the main room, and into his kitchen.  "And I'm also kidnapping your wife."

            "Kidnapping a queen generally leads to a very painful death," he informed her.

            She only grinned.  "I'm a goddess.  I have precedence over a mere queen."

            "Indeed?" Tenel Ka entered the room just as Jaina finished speaking.  She came up to Jacen and took his free hand in hers.  "I think instead the queen shall agree to accompany the goddess with no kidnapping threats.  It will keep the goddess from having to fight her way free of bodyguards."

            Jaina shrugged.  "Whatever.  That works too."

            "And so why are we being kidnapped?" Jacen asked.

            His sister looked up at him, and her eyes were laughing.  "We have twelve hours before we reach Mon Cal," she explained.  "And most of us have been stuck on the _Guardian_ flying basic escort service for half a year.  We're _bored_.  And since all my pilots are having a party tonight that I can't go to, and since almost everyone's shown up, I decided that I'd throw a reunion party of my own, and I'm going to kidnap the necessary people."

            Jacen laughed.  "Wouldn't it be simpler to just go to your pilots' party?"

            She shook her head was suddenly serious and older.  "I can't.  I'm the General.  They'd be too busy trying to not do anything stupid or insulting in front of me that they wouldn't have any fun."  She shrugged, and was young again.  "So I'm going to throw my own party.  Full of all the people my pilots would be too nervous to have fun around.  So I decided I'd start by kidnapping you two."

            Jacen glanced down at his wife.  Tenel Ka's smile was slow, but the queen of Hapes squeezed his hand.  "Just let me inform Ythr we are leaving, and he will watch over Veren."

—

            Jaina led them through the _Guardian_'s winding corridors to find each of the Jedi that had arrived to support the High Council and many of the higher ranking military officers who had been denied access to their own subordinates' parties.  Eventually, the group became too large to wander down the hallways.  By then, word had somehow spread of the reunion, and people were showing up uninvited to find old friends from the war.

            They took over the officer's mess; tables were pushed aside and a dance floor was cleared.  Someone pressed a droid into service, and soon music wafted through the air.  It didn't take long for someone to open the bar; to Jacen, it looked as though Colonel Mareisn had simply commandeered the bar and began passing out drinks.

            Jaina wove through the crowd, smiling and laughing, and finally reached him.  "I suppose now we need to actually bring the High Council in," she said.  "And maybe even Mom and Dad."

            "Too late," Jacen said.  He nodded toward the general direction of their parents.  "I think everyone's here already."  He lifted his glass at her.  "Congratulations on a successful party."

            Jaina smiled.  "Have you seen -"

            "General Solo," a warm male voice said from behind Jacen.  

            "Colonel Fel," she responded in the same tone, and she stepped forward into his arms.

            Jagged Fel- tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome with dark green eyes and black hair streaked with white where his scar disappeared into his hairline- bent and twirled her in a hug.  "This was a good idea," he told her, green eyes twinkling down at her.

            "What happened to being grim?" she teased him.

            A corner of his mouth quirked up.  "Someone taught me the value of being spontaneous."

            Jaina laughed.  "Nice to know I influenced you _somehow_."

            "Evening, Jacen," the Imperial pilot said, turning to him.

            Jacen took his hand easily.  At one point, he had been sure that Jag would be his brother-in-law, and had learned to get along with him.  It wasn't hard: Jag was a good man, a good pilot, and, fortunately, a good friend for his sister, if not the love of her life.  "Jag.  How have you been doing?"

            "I've been reinforcing the fact that I prefer flying my clawcraft to dealing with politicians," the pilot-turned-diplomat said drily.  "And you?  How is your son?"

            "Don't get him started," Jaina said, rolling her eyes.

            Both men ignored her.  "Veren's fine," Jacen said, and refrained from telling Jag all the details.  The man would learn soon enough when he had children of his own.  "How is your family doing?"

            "Well."  And Jag's lips twitched into a full smile.  "Except for my little sister.  She's rather devastated that you're happily married- she had a crush on you the size of the Death Star."

            "I- Ah-" Jacen didn't quite know how to respond to that, and was grateful that his beard covered most of his blush.  "Oh."

            Jag chuckled at his discomfort, and Jaina erupted into peals of laughter. 

            "What's so funny?" Han asked, coming up to them and suspiciously glaring at his children.

            Jaina was laughing so hard all she could manage in response was to raise a shaking hand to point at Jacen before she turned to Jag and buried her head in his chest, rocking with laughter.

            "Oh," Han said, brows furrowing.  He studied his son for a long moment, and then turned back to his calming daughter.  "Do you want to try that one again?"

            Jaina just grinned.  "I think you should ask Jacen."

            Jacen tried to beat a retreat.  "I think you should ask Jag."

            Han turned to the pilot.  Jag, having lived among the Chiss all his life, had managed to calm himself long before Jaina.  His eyes were still dancing, though, and Han stared at him warily.  "Kid?  Want to explain?"

            Jag smiled again, ran a hand over the white streak of hair running back from his scar, and shrugged.  "Not really."

            Jaina giggled, and Han glared at the Chiss pilot.  "All right."  He turned around, muttering something about finding someone his own age he could understand.

            Jacen laughed then.  "Thanks," he told Jag.  

            "It was worth it to see the look on both your faces," he said.  His gaze swung to Jaina, and then focused somewhere behind her.  "Master Durron," he greeted.

            "Colonel Fel, Jacen, Goddess."  Kyp nodded at them.  "What happened to Han?"

            Kyp Durron had changed little from the man Jacen remembered.  He was still lean and fit, still surrounded by the power he could wield so easily, still somehow a sharply honed weapon ready to strike out at whatever threatened him.  His Force-presence was still powerful enough to make him noticed in a crowd, still aggressive enough to remind Jacen that he had fallen.  But he no longer wore the look of a brooding martyr that had replaced the scowl of years past.  Age had threaded more silver through the black of his hair, and more lines had worked their way onto his face, but he was still a dangerous man to cross.

            Overall, though, Jacen was glad Kyp was on his side.

            Jag chuckled.  "I think we managed to confuse him."

            "Not hard to do, knowing the three of you."  Kyp shook Jag's hand.  "I haven't seen you in a while."

            "Not since Tesin.  I hear you have a new apprentice flying with the Dozen now."

            Kyp grimaced.  "Yeah.  She's a decent pilot and a good Jedi, but I'm not sure Luke made the right choice by asking me to train her."  He looked at Jacen.  "Keshli reminds me a lot of you, actually.  Master Skywalker should have asked you to train her."

            Jacen raised the hand not holding his drink as though to ward Kyp off.  "Oh, no.  I'm not a Jedi Master."

            "Yet."  Kyp shook his head.  "Give it time."  He turned back to Jag.  "How have you been?"

            "Wishing I were flying more and talking less."

            Kyp rolled his eyes.  "I did warn you when you said you'd be turning diplomat.  Not everyone understands that the easiest way to get what you want is to actually ask for it."

            "Exactly.  They'll dance around the point, hint at it a few more times, and finally casually mention how pleased they would be if you would manage to do whatever it was, and refuse to ask point-blank for whatever it is."  Jag sighed.  "Politicians.  I never thought I'd be dealing with them."

            "Oh, it's worse than you think, Jag," Jaina said solemnly.  She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper.  "I hate to break it to you, but you're a diplomat.  That means, roughly, you _are_ a politician."

            Jag glared at her for a long second, and raised his hands in defeat.  "Just don't tell my father that."  Then he reached out and took her hands.  "Speaking of dancing around, they're playing music.  You coming?"

            "Of course."  But before she let him lead her out onto the improvised dance floor, she turned back to Jacen and Kyp.

            "You are going to dance with Mom at least once or I'll hurt you," she threatened Jacen.

            Jacen sought a way out of the closing trap.  "She's here with Dad.  He'll dance with her."

            Jaina snorted.  "Dad can't dance worth Sithspit.  You can.  Go remind Mom why you're her favorite child."  Then she turned to Kyp.  "And you are going to go over and talk with your poor apprentice before she becomes part of that wall."

            Kyp glanced rather guiltily toward the far wall, where his apprentice of the past year was trying valiantly to disappear.  "Oh.  Yeah.  I should probably do that."

            "If you ask nice, I bet she'd even dance with you," Jaina called saucily after him. 

            Kyp turned and favored her with a withering glare.  "I get a dance with you after I dance with her."

            "If you insist."

            "Oh, I definitely insist, Goddess."  His voice was a low growl, somehow promising dire consequences would befall her, but Jaina, unconcerned, tugged Jag out into the crowd of dancers.

            Jacen watched Kyp thoughtfully as the older man reached Keshli.  Something in Kyp's tone of voice had caught his attention.  Jacen had begun to learn his wife's simple method of summing up people in a few words.  It was essential in politics, and Jacen thought he had become quite good at it.  He had begun a list in his head of his friends and family, summing them up, searching for the real parts of them, the real selves among all the layers that sometimes covered them.

            His mother was a peacemaker, always seeking ways to make the world around her secure.  His father- well, Jacen had decided that Han had a core of pure scoundrel.  Uncle Luke was a guide, a mentor both in word and deed.  Mara was a guardian, keeping watch over those she loved and fighting fiercely to protect them.  Tenel Ka was bound by her honor: the honor that she kept as queen, the honor that she followed through the Jedi Code.  Kyp was a fighter, dangerous and powerful and haunted.  Jag was, at heart, a pilot, happiest flying out in the stars, though his honor colored everything he did.  Jaina had begun that way, but through the war had changed and become a weapon: the Sword of the Jedi, a protector like the Jedi Knights of the Old Republic.

            And there was a possibility that Kyp- at heart a fighter- would understand Jaina- at heart the Sword.  

            Jaina had been a shadow of her former self before the _Guardian_ had begun her long trip.  She had hidden it well, but there had been something bothering her, something not right about her, since at least the war had ended, since before she and Jag had split up.  She tried hard to hide it from the world, and mostly succeeded in her act. 

            But it had been there when he had used the Force to touch her mind yesterday, and she didn't deserve to have to deal with it, no matter how adept she had grown at hiding it.  Whatever it was, it made her somehow less _Jaina_, somehow diminished.  

            When she had greeted him in the docking bay earlier that evening, he had risked a quick touch of her through the Force.  She was better, but she was not completely healed.  The hole was patched, but still cracked.

            Kyp was a fighter.  Jaina was a weapon.

            Jacen made up his mind.  Kyp had a better chance of understanding what was bothering her than he did; therefore he would ask Kyp to talk with her.  Kyp was a friend of hers.  He had helped put Jaina together back when she had fallen to the Dark Side; he shouldn't refuse to help put her together again now.

            Jacen set his glass down and wove through the crowd.  He would dance with his mother, he would steal away his wife for a dance, and then he would try to talk to Kyp.

            Maybe Kyp would be able to help Jaina.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	2. Chapter 2

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 2 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

"You seem to have lost an apprentice, Master Durron," Jacen teased, handing him a glass filled with what Kyp devoutly hoped was something alcoholic.

            "I think Skywalker's lost his mind," he growled, and downed most of the liquor.  "She's more afraid of me than the Vong."

            "Yuuzhan Vong," Jacen corrected.  "And that's no longer politically correct.  We're at peace with them."

            Kyp's smile was brief and feral.  "When have I _ever_ been politically correct?" he asked.

            Jacen was forced to concede the point.  "She lasted a whole dance."

            "All three minutes of it," the Jedi Master agreed drily.  "I honestly think Master Skywalker's lost his mind."

            "Why did Uncle Luke ask you to train her?"

            Kyp fought the urge to scowl.  "Because she's terrified of me."

            Jacen's brow furrowed.  "Care to explain that one?"

            "Keshli's biggest fear is that she'll fall to the Dark Side."

            "There is no Dark Side.  There is only the Force."

            "Mm-hm."  Kyp wasn't fully convinced.  He waved his hand.  "That's part of the problem.  The unifying Force is neither Light nor Dark, so how can she be sure she's staying on the Light Side?  Master Skywalker wanted me to train her to show her that even though I went over to the Dark Side I was redeemed."  He sighed.  "The whole 'moral of the story' thing, I guess.  But she's so terrified that her Jedi Master is a former Sith Lord that she can barely meditate in the same room as me."

            "Then why did Uncle Luke . . ."  Jacen trailed off.  "Well, I suppose she'll get used to it eventually.  That's the point, isn't it?  To have her realize her own fear?"

            "That's the point of it.  And it's hell waiting for her to realize it."  He realized the annoyance had colored his voice, and moved onto a different subject.  "Your sister wasn't half this much trouble when she was my apprentice."

            "Jaina has never been afraid of you," Jacen agreed quietly.  "That's part of why I'm going to ask you for help."

            Kyp glanced out into the crowd of dancers and found Jaina, currently laughing with her mother.  "Help with what?" he asked, trying to keep suspicion out of his voice.

            "Have you tried to link up with her recently?  Have you seen what's happened to her?"

            "Yes," he began cautiously, but Jacen kept talking, overriding whatever else he would have said.

            "She's gotten better the last day or so- I don't know, maybe she finally worked something out- but she's still not quite all there.  Can you sense it?"

            Kyp looked closely at Jacen.  The younger man was serious and concerned for his sister.  It was hard to match up the bearded, decisive man in front of him with the wavering, unsure teen that Jacen had been throughout much of the war.  He shut his eyes, though, and reached out through the Force toward Jaina, forcing himself to look at her presence with detached eyes.

            She was parsecs better than she had been before they had talked.  The void was filled; her presence shone brightly, lively and whole.  But the void was still present; it wasn't completely gone.  It was as though it had been patched and a spiderweb of little cracks were just waiting for something to come and rip the void back open.

            He opened his eyes and looked at Jacen.  "She's better, but she's not quite back to what she was."

            Jacen accepted his concise report without questioning how well Kyp knew his sister.  "I've tried to help her, but nothing I've done has worked."  His brown eyes were direct and somehow unnerving.  "Do you think you can help her get back to what she was?"

            The question set Kyp back; he honestly considered it for a minute.  Jacen couldn't know what he was asking.  At last, "I spoke with her about it just before you landed," Kyp said.  "I promised her I'd help her with it."  That seemed the simplest explanation he could give.

            Jacen gave a sigh of relief.  "Good."

            Kyp must not have been able to keep his surprise off his face, because Jacen caught his eye and chuckled.  "You're a fighter.  That's all she's been for years now.  You understand her like I can't.  She trusts you.  I figure you have a better chance of helping her than anyone else."  Then his laughter disappeared.  "She's been trying to hide it for a long time.  She shouldn't have to deal with it for any longer."

            Kyp was in complete accord with the younger Jedi.  "How long?" he asked, knowing the answer would hurt.  "How long has she been trying to hide it?"

            Jacen hesitated, and his brown gaze sought out his sister, who was making her way slowly in their direction.  "I don't know.  I only noticed right before she and Jag split up- that would be about two years ago."

            "Why'd they break up?"  He fought to keep his voice light and unconcerned.

            Jacen shrugged without looking at him.  "I don't know.  They didn't argue, that's all I know.  They're still friends; you saw that earlier."

            He had, and he had been jealous.  At Jacen's words, a burden he had been living with for nearly six years finally lifted.  "Yeah."  He blinked, and took a deep breath, a little lightheaded.  She wasn't Jag's.  She hadn't been Jag's in years.  She'd been alone and suffering; he'd been alone and suffering . . .  Why the hell had he kept away for so long?

            He knew he was smiling, so he tossed his empty glass back at Jacen.  "Thanks," he said.  "I'll do what I can for Jaina."

            Jacen caught the glass without really looking at it, but finally tore his eyes from his sister and glanced back at Kyp.  "Thank you," he said softly.  "Do whatever you think will help."

            _Did he just give me permission to . . .  No, **not** going to continue that line of thought.  _Kyp merely grinned and sketched a salute before turning and moving to intercept Jaina.

            "Goddess," he said, taking her hand and raising it to his lips.  

            "Master Durron," she mocked, using his title as an insult though there was no real heat behind her words.  "What happened to Keshli?"

            "She decided she would rather sleep than mingle with the heroes of the war.  But I did dance with her once, so you owe me a dance."

            "Do I really?"  She paused to consider for a long minute, and then she grinned up at him.  "All right."  

            Kyp led her out onto the dance floor and gathered her close to him.  Her arms wound around his waist, and he was content to simply hold her and sway in time to the slow Chandrillan ballad.  

            "I just had a very interesting conversation with your brother," he told her as the music swelled to a finish.  

            She lifted her head from his chest.  "Oh, really?"  She sounded skeptical, and he laughed.

            "He wants me to help you out."

            "With what?"

            "What do you think?"  He tugged at the end of her hair.  "He's worried about you, Goddess.  You're better, but you're still not quite whole."

            "I feel whole," Jaina said softly.  She reluctantly pulled away from him as they drifted off the dance floor; unable to completely part from her, Kyp draped his arm across her shoulder.  "I feel complete for the first time in ages."

            Her quiet words made him smile; he pulled her closer against his side.  "Better tell Jacen that, then- he's worried about you."  The smile died.  "And he's right, Jaina.  You're not quite perfect yet."

            "I'm a goddess- of course I am."  But her smile didn't reach her eyes; she was lying, stalling, denying the truth.  And she knew she was.  She shut her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder.  "I can't fix everything at once, Kyp.  You can't even fix it all at once.  I need time to sort things out.  Now that I know what made the hole, I can go about filling it in."

            He almost pressed a kiss to her hair before he remembered they were in the middle of a crowded room full of her friends and family.  He wasn't sure if she wanted them to know about this strange relationship they had- he wasn't sure if he wanted them to know yet.  Instead, he sighed and loosened his grip on her.  "I'm here if you want help."

            She pulled away to stand in front of him, and this time her smile danced in her eyes.  "Partners still?"

            Kyp laughed.  "You know, Goddess, someday we're going to have to figure out just what partners means."

            "Oh, I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually."  Jaina's smile spread.  "But until we do, can we assume it means we're friends?"

            _Friends_. It was a start, and an honest one at that.

            "Friends," he agreed.  "Until we finally figure out what partners means."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	3. Chapter 3

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 3 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

They weren't talking.

            Mara kept the frown from her face only through long practice at hiding her emotions.  She sipped her drink casually, looking for all the world as though she was merely taking a break from the flurry of social activities that surrounded her.  But her mind hummed furiously, trying to understand what she was viewing.

            Her niece swayed in time to the music, seemingly perfectly relaxed in Durron's arms.  Comfortable enough, Mara noted with an inward frown, to have closed her eyes and rested her cheek against Durron's chest.  Durron seemed just as content with the arrangement as Jaina; one of his hands lay along her back, and the other cradled her head, lazily combing through her loose hair.

            But they weren't talking.

            In Mara's experience, dancing fell into one of two categories: it was either a social activity or an excuse.  Social dancing meant laughing and talking, singing along with the music and joking about other dancers.  Social dancers were happy to be dancing, happy to be alive, and determined to enjoy every minute of it.  

            The other type of dancers used the music as an excuse to be alone.  They were the subdued ones, the couples swaying on the fringes of the dance floor, the ones who kept away from the exuberant social dancers.  They were the ones who used the dance as an excuse to be together; they were the ones who were silent.

            And Jaina and Durron weren't talking.  Mara didn't want to consider what that meant, but forced her mind through it.  The two had been good friends for the latter half of the war, after Kyp had helped Jaina return to the light.  But they had drifted apart once the war ended, when they were no longer flying missions together.  Whatever Master-Apprentice bond that had ever linked them was long dead; the link that they had developed fighting the Yuuzhan Vong had been dormant for years.  They _had_ been close friends for years, though.  That could explain it. 

            The music ended, and Jaina and Kyp finally released each other and began to talk.  But they didn't split up; Kyp slung an arm over Jaina's shoulder, and she was comfortable enough with it there to actually lean against him.  

            Mara glanced away.  Jaina hadn't been herself in a long time; Durron was close enough to her to sense it.  He could just be offering support- they hadn't seen each other in a long time.  But he had taken advantage of Jaina in the past.  Granted, that had been years ago, before they had become friends, but Mara had a long memory when it came to betrayals.  Especially when it was someone she considered _hers_ being betrayed.  So she was inclined to treat Durron and his motives toward her niece with a high level of suspicion.  

            Luke would have said that she needed to loosen up, to regain some faith in humanity. 

            Mara preferred to keep an eye on things.

            She reached out through the Force and lightly brushed by the pair.  No sharp emotions, no obvious problems.  Jaina was more herself, a steady presence lightly colored with happiness; Durron was amused and enjoying himself.  Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something.

            Mara reached past Jaina and Kyp, searching for her husband.  He might have some insight on the matter she didn't know about; it would be like him to have noticed and considered this already.  But instead of finding her husband, she found another familiar presence- one that should have been in bed hours ago.

            But Ben Skywalker was definitely out of bed and awake.  Mara couldn't see him through the crowd of people, but he felt both excited and confused.  He had managed to sneak into the party- the _grown-up_ party- but he was too short to see much of what was going on, and he had to avoid Mama and Daddy so that he didn't have to go back to bed . . .

            Stifling a laugh, Mara very gently slipped into her son's still-sleepy mind. _Cousin Jaina,_ she whispered through the Force. _Find Cousin Jaina._

            _Jaya would help him!  Daddy said she had been just as bad as him when she was six like him.  That meant she was safe.  She was like him. _

            Mara smiled faintly at her son's simple reasoning, and waited while Ben sent out questing Force tendrils.  Evidently he found his cousin, for Ben soon began moving.  Mara half-turned and was able to see Ben weave his way around larger adults and launch himself toward Jaina- breaking up a handshake between Jaina and her former Jedi Master.

            "Jaya!" Ben's cry of greeting was loud enough that Mara actually heard it from where she was.  It gave her an excuse to turn all the way around and face the trio, but she waited to approach them.

            Jaina caught her younger cousin and said something back to him.  Indignation colored Ben's thoughts. _Of course he shouldn't be in bed; he was having an adventure.  Jaya knew about adventures._  Both Jaina and Durron laughed, and Ben glanced at Kyp. _Oh, it's **him**.  He's supposed to be polite to him and call him 'Master Durron', so he does.  But just because he's supposed to._

            Mara laughed out loud before she remembered she was standing all by herself.  A few of the celebrating party-goers glanced at her oddly, but then looked away when they recognized her.  Mara didn't mind.

            Durron had said something to Ben, and the young boy's thoughts filled with amusement and the vague, half-remembered sensation of being hoisted high up into the air by a strong pair of arms. _That had been fun.  Just like when Uncle Han had done it and Mama had made him stop.  Except Mama didn't know that Master Kyp had done it because Daddy hadn't told her and so Mama hadn't made him stop.  So maybe Master Kyp would do it again?_

            Skywalker had let Durron loose with their son?  Mara started forward grimly to rescue Ben.  She would need to speak with Luke later.

            She was fast enough to hear Durron and Jaina both laugh, and saw Ben's arms open and reach up at Kyp.  The Jedi Master bent and swung the boy high above his head so fast that Mara was sure Ben's neck would snap.  But Ben shrieked with laughter and spread his hands out like wings as Kyp held him up. _Flying!  He wasn't allowed to fly on his own yet, even though Daddy could, but being up high was the best.  Daddy and Cousin Jacen could use the Force and fly up to the ceiling sitting still but he couldn't yet so he liked it when Uncle Han and Cousin Jacen and Master Kyp and Master Kam and Daddy would lift him up and make him fly.  Mama didn't like it but Daddy said it was fine since it kept him from trying to do it himself.  He wasn't **stupid**, he didn't want to try it himself 'cause he might drop himself and that would hurt.  Master Kyp wouldn't drop him and so he wouldn't hurt.  And he got to be up high._

            Then he caught sight of his mother.  His eyes widened, and his emotions swirled in panic. _Mama!  He's going to be in trouble and Mama will make Master Kyp promise not to do it again and then he would have to try it himself and he would drop himself and it would hurt._

            "Can I come down now?" Ben asked, and Kyp immediately lowered his arms, carefully setting him back on the ground.  

            Jaya would protect him from Mama.  She liked flying too.  She would make Mama not get him in trouble.  Jaya was safe.  She was like him.

            Torn between consternation- had Luke let every blasted man in Ben's life play X-wing with her son?- and amusement, Mara joined the group and leveled a cool gaze at Ben.  "And just what do you think you're doing here?" she asked him.

            Ben blinked up at her with Luke's eyes.  "Ummmmm . . ." he stalled, while frantic thoughts flitted through his mind.  _He's in trouble, he's in lots of trouble, and Master Kyp's going to be in trouble._ "Nothing, Mama."

            Jaina put a hand on Ben's shoulder.  "He just wanted to come and say hello, since he was almost asleep when everyone landed."

            _Yeah!  What Jaya said.  She always knew how to fix things._

            Mara blinked, but kept part of her mind lightly fixed on her son as she wondered just how many things Ben had managed to slip past her.  "I see," she said.  "But now that you've said hello to everyone, you're going to go back to bed, aren't you?"

            _He wasn't in trouble!  Well, he did have to leave, but he wasn't in trouble._ "I guess so."  He sounded dejected; Mara allowed herself to smile at last.  

            "Say goodnight to Jaina and Master Durron, and I'll go back to the rooms with you."

            "Goodnight, Master Durron.  'Night, Jaya."  Ben started to step forward toward his mother, but Jaina's grip on his shoulder stopped him.

            "I'll come too, if you don't mind, Aunt Mara," Jaina said.  She glanced over her shoulder.  "I've seen everyone I need to, and I think I'll call it a night."

            Mara was mildly surprised.  "All right.  I'll see you tomorrow, Durron."

            Kyp smiled faintly.  "Should I hunt down Master Skywalker and send him home after you?"

            Mara didn't allow herself to smile back at him.  "If you would."

            Durron gave her a half bow, black cape swirling behind him, and Mara gritted her teeth as Ben envied it and imagined wearing one himself.  "My pleasure."  He turned to Jaina.  "I'll find you tomorrow."

            Jaina nodded.  "We'll talk more then."

            Kyp looked down at Ben.  "You'll keep them safe on the walk back?"

            _Of course he would; he wasn't a little boy anymore, he was six_. Ben nodded.  "Yeah."

            "Good," and Durron straightened.  "Mara, Ben.  I'll see you tomorrow, Goddess."

            "Good night, Kyp," Jaina said, and he met her eyes, grinned, and turned away in search of Mara's husband.

            Ben's small hand slipped into hers, and Mara looked down at her son's determined eyes.  "Back to the rooms," he said, and reached for his cousin's hand. _He was going to do what Daddy would do; he was going to make sure that Mama and Jaya got to the rooms safe.  'Cause that was what Daddy would do and that was what Master Kyp meant.  Master Kyp knew that Mama didn't need help staying safe- **everyone** knew that_. Mara barely contained her laughter as her son escorted them through the crowded room.  He was tired, his thoughts sketchy and simple and brutally honest. _She was Mama and nothing could hurt Mama 'cause she was the best, but Daddy didn't always remember that and so Daddy worried.  So he was going to go with Mama so Daddy didn't worry.  And Master Kyp wanted him to keep Jaya safe on the walk, 'cause Jaya was kind of empty inside and Master Kyp worried.  So he would pretend to look after Mama so Daddy wouldn't worry about her, even though Mama was the best and didn't need help, and he'd make sure Jaya stayed safe like Master Kyp meant so Master Kyp wouldn't have to worry about his Goddess._

            Ben pulled the two women through the door into the relatively quieter hallway, and then looked up at Mara.  "Mama?  Are you all right?"

            Mara blinked, and quickly retreated from eavesdropping on her son's mind.  "I'm fine, Ben," she said, though she felt dazed.  "Do you know the way back to the rooms?"

            "Uh-huh," he said, and tugged at her hand.  "This way, come on."

            Through the confusion that had settled over her brain, Mara dimly heard Jaina questioning Ben about how he had managed to escape the rooms.  But most of the conversation passed her by; Mara's mind was replaying the thoughts she had heard from Ben, comparing his child's innocent reasoning with her adult's jaded mind, and somehow coming to the same conclusion.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	4. Chapter 4

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 4 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

For the second time that night, Jaina watched as a child was securely tucked into bed.  Mara bent gently brushed her son's red hair- so like her own- off his face.  "You need to sleep if you want to stay up for the Council tomorrow," she told him.  "So no more adventures tonight."

            "Okay, Mama," Ben said on the end of a yawn.  "I love you."

            Mara Jade Skywalker, former Emperor's Hand, former assassin, now Jedi Master and mother, smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her child's forehead.  "I love you too, Ben.  Now go to sleep."

            "Night, Mama," he said, shutting his eyes.  "Night, Jaya."

            "Sleep well," Jaina murmured from the doorway.  Her aunt stood- still slender and swift- and palmed the lights off.  Ben's breathing had already evened out; the boy would be asleep in minutes.

            Mara pulled the door shut quietly, leaving it barely cracked open.  Then she motioned Jaina out into the main room.  She sank gracefully into one of the chairs, and, waving Jaina over to another, spoke.  "Something changed.  And changed tonight."

            Trust Mara to attack the main problem directly.  Jaina smiled faintly.  "Yes."

            Mara waited for her to continue, but when Jaina didn't elaborate, she sighed.  "You didn't leave the party to come and sit here and not tell me anything."

            "I guess I'm trying to figure out where to start," she answered honestly.  

            "I think I can answer that one for you," Mara said.  Her eyes narrowed.  "Kyp Durron.  Why don't you start there?"

            Jaina lifted her head and met her aunt's eyes, refusing to give her aunt the satisfaction of seeing her startled.  "I talked with him tonight before Mom and Dad arrived.  He's agreed to help me put myself back together."  

            "That's it?"  Mara was clearly skeptical.  

            Jaina nodded.  "That's it.  He helped me before, when I fell.  We talked things over, and I asked him to stay and help me now.  He said he would."

            Mara leaned back, green eyes pensive.  "Why?"

            Jaina hesitated, and looked down at her hands.  She smoothed out the fabric of her skirt.  "I think he felt guilty," she said finally, without meeting Mara's eyes.  "That he wasn't here when I needed him."

            "Hmph."  Mara still sounded doubtful.  "And has he helped at all?"

            In response, Jaina smiled and dropped her now-habitual shields, letting Mara sense her completely.  She felt her aunt's quick and thorough probe, and then Mara retreated.  

            "You're better.  Much better," Mara conceded.  "Whatever you two did worked."

            Jaina shrugged.  "Talked, mostly."

            "But you're still not fully back," her former Jedi Master warned.  

            "I know."  Jaina stood and began to pace up and down the room.  "It's been there for years.  Not even Kyp can fix everything at once.  We're going to work on it while we're both on Mon Calamari."

            Mara frowned.  "How much ground time do you get before you're out again?"

            Jaina absently pulled her loose hair over her shoulder and began to braid it.  "Not much.  Trickster Squadron's getting pulled from escort service.  We're going to head Coreward and see if we can do something about the Insh'shilan pirates.  They're starting to cause some serious problems, and the Admiral is having trouble predicting their moves."

            Mara laughed.  "So they send for the only fighter squadron led by a Jedi."

            Jaina finished her braid and tossed it back over her shoulder, and grinned at her aunt.  "Basically.  I think the Admiral might even ask Uncle Luke for more Jedi to help him.  I bet that's part of why the High Council was called."

            "When are you shipping out again?"

            Jaina shrugged and resumed pacing.  "Five days.  That gives my pilots some ground time before we head back into the thick of things.  And it'll give me time with my family."

            "Can you and Kyp fix things in five days?"

            She shrugged again and tried to keep her voice steady.  "I don't know.  But we'll try, and now that he knows what's wrong- that something's wrong," she corrected herself, "we'll keep in touch a bit more."

            Mara was still pensive, still considering, as though she was replaying things through her head again.  At last, she asked, "How do you know he won't hurt you again?"

            Jaina stopped pacing and stared at her.  How had Mara figured out that it had been Kyp's absence that had been the whole in her life?  How had she realized that . . . no, Jaina realized, she wasn't referring to his absence, though that was the main hurt now associated with Kyp in Jaina's mind.  She smiled, relieved.  Mara was still stuck on Sernpidal.  

            "That was years ago, Aunt Mara.  He wouldn't do that again."

            Mara leaned back.  "Are you sure?"

            Her answer was swift and absolute.  "Yes."

            "Well then," Mara sighed, closing her eyes.  "Then I'll wish you luck."

            "Thank you," Jaina said, and stood uncertainly for a moment.  "I guess I'll head off to bed.  Anything else you wanted to talk about?"

            "Not really," Mara murmured.  "I'll see you tomorrow outside the High Council?"

            "Yeah."  Jaina waited a moment, then, deciding her aunt was tired, turned away.  "Good night, Aunt Mara."

            She was halfway through the door when her aunt called her name.  "Jaina?"  She turned back.  Mara was standing, green eyes glinting in the shadowed room.  Her next question was simple.  "Do you trust him?"

            There was only one answer to give, and it didn't required thought.

            "With my life," she said simply, and shut the door behind her.

–

            Luke was surprised to find Mara still awake when he returned to their rooms.

            "You're back late," she said softly, rising and coming over to embrace him.  

            His arms settled around her with no conscious thought; he pulled her close and smiled into her hair.  "Cal wanted to talk.  Tomorrow's going to be a mess."  He rubbed her back.  "You're still up."

            "I've been thinking."  She sounded resigned, and Luke opened his eyes and pulled away just far enough to look into her eyes.  

            "About what?"

            "Jaina," his wife said.  She waited a moment, then added, "And Kyp."

            Luke frowned.  Something about her tone of voice told him it wasn't about Jedi matters.  "Why?"

            A hint of a smile flitted across her face.  "You really are blind, farmboy."

            "Which is why I married you.  You notice things I don't.  Tell me what I missed."

            "Kyp Durron, destroyer of worlds, former Sith Lord, rogue Jedi Master, now semi-respected member of the High Council and leader of Kyp's Dozen, is in love with your niece."  

            Luke stared down at the love of his life in disbelief.  "What?"

            "And your niece, Jedi Knight, General of the Galactic Alliance and commander of the Tricksters, is well on her way to loving him back." 

            "_What?_" Luke repeated.  But his wife merely met his eyes evenly, completely serious.  "I think you need to explain a bit more."  He steered her to the couch, and practically collapsed onto it, all thoughts of sleep driven from his mind.  "How did you figure that out?"

            Mara shifted her weight to face him.  "True or false: Durron's always looked out for Jaina."

            That was an easy question.  "True."

            "True or false: after he lied to her at Sernpidal, he's never once done something to hurt her."

            That required more thought; eventually, "True," Luke admitted.

            "True or false: he's risked his life to keep her safe and happy."

            Luke didn't like where this was leading.  "True."

            Mara, somehow sensing he was beginning to see her line of reasoning, pressed on.  "True or false: Durron's changed since he helped Jaina come back from the Dark Side."

            "True.  But Jaina's changed too."

            "Mmhm.  True or false: Jaina gets away with doing things to Durron no one else could."

            Luke frowned.  "What do you mean by that?"

            Mara picked up his hand and entwined her fingers through his.  "Have _you_ ever made him feel guilty?"

            Luke's grin was involuntary.  "Nope.  I'm not sure that's even possible."

            "Jaina did.  Or how about, have you known anyone to ever hit Kyp and be able to walk away from it?"

            Luke's grin faded.  "_Jaina_ hit Kyp?  When was this?"

            "After Sernpidal, I think.  Mind you, I've only heard the rumor secondhand."  She smiled at his shock.  "She _was_ my apprentice, you know.  Given everything he'd put her through, he's lucky she only slapped him."

            Luke shook his head, amazed.  "I'd have paid good credits to see that," he murmured.  "All right, I understand the first part of your logic.  Not sure if I agree just yet, but it makes enough sense.  What about Jaina?"

            Mara paused in thought before speaking.  "She's not afraid of him," she said at last.  "Almost everyone is, just a little bit.  You are, I am, every Jedi is.  Even the non-Jedi know what he's done and what he could do.  But Jaina's not afraid of him.  She knows what he is, and it doesn't seem to matter."

            "She's fallen too," Luke pointed out.

            Mara shrugged.  "So have you and I and Kam, in our own ways.  And we're more comfortable around him because of it.  But we're all still afraid of him- of what he might do- because we know what he went through.  Jaina's not afraid of him at all."

            Luke was silent for a moment, thinking that one through.  It fit in with the other pieces of the puzzle.  "Why?" he finally asked.

            Mara shrugged, then turned and nestled against him.  He put his arm around her shoulder and let her rest her head on his shoulder.  "She doesn't think Kyp will hurt her."

            Luke tangled his fingers into her hair.  "Why not?"

            Mara tilted her head.  "Do you trust Kyp?"

            Luke hesitated, then nodded.  "Yes."

            "So does Jaina.  But she didn't even have to think about it."

            He understood Mara's reasoning, and could follow her concerns.  He sat in silence for a long while, thinking and turning things over in his head.  Kyp Durron and Jaina.  He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it.  He looked down at his wife.  "What are we going to do about this?"

            Mara's eyes fluttered shut as a smile spread across her face.  "What I promised myself I'd never do to her."

            "And that would be?"

            "Meddle."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	5. Chapter 5

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 5 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Han put a finger under his collar and tugged.  "Damn formal outfit," he muttered.  "Leia, honey, can't you tell them I'm just an upstart old smuggler and should be allowed to dress the part?"

            Leia was fiddling with her hair, trying to finish pinning up the long braid.  "Stop complaining, Han," she said, never taking her eyes from the mirror.  "At least you're not in uniform."

            That was true enough, Han reflected absently.  He came forward, took the pin his wife was struggling with, and carefully managed to insert it properly, trailing his hand along the smooth plait as he finished.  She was beautiful.  Twenty, thirty years- he could never remember how many- and she was still the exquisite woman Luke had rescued.  He couldn't take his eyes off their reflection in the mirror.  Leia's delicate face, pale smooth skin now lightly lined with age, thick hair with a few white strands, still regal and serene, wearing a pale green gown- she looked every inch the princess she had been.  He loomed large behind her, face craggy with the years, hair nearly all grey, hand large and scarred on her shoulder.  Han always wound up feeling somehow clumsy and rough beside her.

            "Thank you," Leia whispered.  One small hand came up and covered his.  

            Swallowing sentiment aside, Han winked at her.  "Ready now, Princess?"

            She turned away and slipped under his arm.  "Let's go," she said.  She absently smoothed his collar and batted his hand away from it.  "The twins will have beaten us there."

            It was a long quiet ride to the Council rooms, but the High Council had yet to meet when they arrived.  It didn't take long for Han to find his children, even in the milling crowd of Jedi and diplomats.  Jacen was easy to find; his wife's bodyguards were rather more obvious that Leia's Noghri.

            Jacen's beard never failed to make Han feel old.  That his little boy was old enough to have a beard was somehow wrong.  He also preferred not to think about the fact that his little boy was also a father now.  Jacen stood with his wife, who, despite being Queen of Hapes, was clad in a simple Jedi robe.  She held their son in her arm; Veren had his arms wrapped around his mother's neck, and was resting his head on her shoulder.

            It was an odd feeling, being a grandfather.  

            Leia steered Han through the crowd towards them.  Jaina was standing beside her twin, looking uncomfortable in her formal dress uniform.  Han had to fight down at grin.  Jaina looked like her mother had twenty years ago, but she had definitely taken more than the Solo name from his side of the family.  Disliking dress uniforms was what he considered a very long-standing tradition from his side of the family.

            Jacen looked up from the conversation first and stepped forward to hug his mother.  "Mom, Dad, you're just in time."

            Jaina sighed, glanced down at her uniform, and offered her father a handshake.  "I'd hug you, but I doubt that's allowed," she said wryly.  To Han's delight, she wriggled a finger under her collar and tugged it away from her throat.  "Why do I put up with this?"

            Leia glanced at Han, and he quickly turned his answer into another.  "For the good of the holoreporters," he said instead.  

            She snorted, clearly unhappy.  "I must be the only Jedi in here _not_ wearing my robes."  

            Leia stepped forward diplomatically, smoothing down the stiff black uniform, straightening the rank pins, brushing Jaina's immaculately combed hair behind her shoulders.  "You look nice, Jaina.  Important."

            "Great.  So I'm important.  Can't I be important in something comfortable?"

            "Not in the military," Han informed her.  She only glared at him.  "So when's this party supposed to start?"

            "In ten minutes," Tenel Ka supplied.  Her grey eyes scanned the room swiftly.  "The High Council members are starting to gather."

            "Speaking of High Council members," Jacen said as Kyp Durron, a young Twi'lek girl behind him, wove his way to their small circle.

            "Hey, kid," Han said, grinning.  

            Kyp glanced at him.  "I'm almost forty, Han.  I don't think that makes me a kid."

            Han's grin spread.  "I still call Luke a kid.  Trust me, you're a kid."

            Kyp knew better to argue.  Instead, he turned to Jaina.  "I need a favor," he began.

            Jaina's eyes flicked to the Twi'lek, then back to Kyp.  "Done," she said.  "Don't worry about it."

            "Thanks."

            Had Han missed something?  He glanced at his wife, but she looked just as confused.  

            Kyp's attention focused on Jacen.  "Master Skywalker wants to see you," he said.

            Jacen frowned.  "But the meeting's about to start."

            "Don't remind me.  But he told me to bring you along."

            "All right."  Jacen's frown smoothed away, and he turned to his wife.  "You'll be in the waiting room?"

            She nodded.  "I shall let Yther know you will be arriving late."

            "Thanks."  He kissed her forehead and tugged at his son's hair.  "See you in a bit."

            Kyp had waited through the exchange, then nodded.  "This is Keshli Arranas, my apprentice," he said, introducing the Twi'lek who was desperately trying not to be nervous.  "Keshli, various Solos."

            Jaina smiled at the girl, who's lekku were twitching nervously.  "I hope you don't mind waiting with us," she said.

            "No, General Solo," Keshli whispered, looking at the ground.

            "Which room are you going to be in afterwards?" Kyp asked Leia.

            She told him, then added, "Tell Mara she's welcome to join us, if she wants."

            "I will.  Keshli, I'll come back for you after the meeting.  Thanks, Goddess."  He glanced at Jacen.  "Ready?"

            "Lead on."

            The two men made their way through the crowd toward the large double doors at the end of the room, where most of the High Council was assembling.  Han watched as Luke greeted Jacen and ushered him past the doors, followed by most of the Council members.

            Leia had watched him disappear past the doors, and looked confused.  "I wonder why Luke needs Jacen."

            Tenel Ka shifted her son's weight.  "Perhaps Master Skywalker wishes to consult with him," she suggested.  "Veren and I will go to our waiting room; I am sure we will see you afterwards."

            Leia nodded, and a smile sprung to her lips.  "You get bigger every day," she told Veren, who was staring at her with wide brown eyes.

            "Gramma," he said, and reached a tiny hand out.  

            Leia laughed and took his hand.  "I'll see you after the meeting," she told him.  

            Apparently satisfied, Veren again buried his head against his mother's shoulder.  Tenel Ka nodded to them and turned to make her way to her private waiting room, flanked by her bodyguards.  The rest of the crowd was beginning to diminish, as diplomats hurried to their waiting rooms and Jedi crowded together around holoscreens to await the final words of the High Council.

            "Well," Han said, and rubbed his hands together.  "Can we go someplace where I can sit down and not worry about holocams?"

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	6. Chapter 6

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 6 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.:

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Keshli sat stiffly in the plush chair, doing her level best to become invisible.  It wasn't working; the three Solos sharing the room with her were doing their level best to draw her out.

            She recognized all of them, of course.  Leia Organa Solo: Princess of Alderaan, Jedi Knight, former Chief of State, diplomat and advisor.  She seemed genuinely concerned with Keshli's silence, and gently addressed her with questions that would be impolite to not answer.  Keshli had seen her on the holonet more times than she could count; she had even had a glimpse of her on Yavin 4, when she was younger and still training at the undestroyed Academy.  Leia was as beautiful as the history holos had shown her, and her presence through the Force was warm and reassuring, like the embers of a fire on a cold, dark night.

            Han Solo looked like a smuggler.  She had seen enough of them in her childhood to recognize one easily.  He reminded her of her master, in some ways.  Keshli couldn't quite figure out why he did, but that was who she was reminded of.  He lounged on the couch with lazy indolence, injecting comments and sarcastic observations into the conversation whenever he saw fit.  All in all, Keshli decided, he was like his wife: just as the history holos had shown him.  He looked rough, but she wasn't worried about him.  He was safe; she could recognize safe people easily.  Han Solo was one of them; so was his wife.

            Jaina Solo, though- Jaina Solo worried her.  Keshli had recognized her easily- if she hadn't remembered the Trickster-Goddess stuff from the war, she would have recognized her anyways from the holo of her Master Durron had.  Jaina was a few years older now, but she hadn't changed all that much physically.  She had welcomed Keshli, and seemed to be perfectly friendly towards her friend's apprentice.  But where Keshli couldn't pinpoint just why Han Solo reminded her of Master Durron, it was all to easy for Keshli to figure out why Jaina Solo made her think of Master Durron.  All she had to do was reach out with the Force and feel.  They were both surrounded by a faint echo of the Dark Side.

            "How is Kyp as a master?" Leia Organa asked, voice still soft and pleasant.

            Keshli swallowed back the urge to curl up into a little ball and ignore them all.  "He's very patient," she said.  And he was: she knew he didn't necessarily want to be teaching her; he knew she didn't want him to be her instructor.

            But Jaina bit back a laugh.  "Kyp? _Patient_? Are we talking about the same Kyp Durron?"

            Leia glanced at her daughter, but Han was the one to speak next.  "Hey, he can afford to be patient with her.  He doesn't have to pull her back from the Dark Side."

            A faint flicker of some emotion appeared on Jaina's face, and then her stricken look vanished.  "True enough."  She glanced at Keshli and grinned; Keshli couldn't keep her lekku from twitching nervously.  "I guess you're not quite the problem student I was."

            "No," she agreed.  She offered no more information; the room was blessedly silent for a few minutes.

            Then Jaina looked straight at Keshli and said plainly, "You don't have to be afraid of him."

            Keshli recoiled from the blunt statement.  "What?"

            "You're afraid of Kyp.  You don't have to be."

            Keshli shrank back against the chair.  "I'm not afraid of him," she protested weakly, knowing she was lying.

            "You are," Jaina said, and she stood.

            "Jaina-" her mother began, and Han straightened, but Jaina ignored them.

            "You're afraid of him," she continued.  "Because of what he's done."

            "I'm not," Keshli whispered.  She wasn't sure who she was trying to convince: Jaina or herself.

            Leia put a hand on Jaina's arm.  "Jaina, sweetie, most people are a little afraid of Kyp.  It's all right to be a little scared of what he did."  Her voice was soothing and calm; Keshli could feel her projecting reassurance.

            Jaina's smile was brittle.  "She's not just afraid of that, Mom."  Her even gaze returned to Keshli.  "You're afraid of him, and you're afraid of me."  She took a step forward, and Keshli desperately searched for a way out.  "But most of all, you're afraid of yourself."

            "I'm not," she whimpered.

            Leia hung behind her daughter, concern etched into her features.  Han had gained his feet and put a hand on his wife's shoulder.  Keshli felt trapped by them, backed into a corner.  Jaina's smile stretched wider, taunting.  "You are.  You're so afraid of what we've done you can't stop thinking about it."

            Keshli's fear finally lent her voice strength.  "I'm not!"

            "You're sitting there, absolutely terrified, because I'm standing not a meter from you, looking straight at you, and all you can think of is what I've done."  Her voice was cold as Hoth; her words were all too true.

            Keshli shut her eyes tightly, trying to block out of the sound of Jaina's voice.  

            "I fell to the Dark Side.  I knew I was slipping, and I still fell.  I killed using the Force.  I wiped memories from good people.  I murdered, I tortured, I hurt others deliberately."  Her voice was low and taunting.  "I abandoned everything I had been taught and took the easy way to power so I could take my revenge.  I _turned_.  And I terrify you."  Her voice changed.  "Open your eyes, Keshli," she ordered.

            "No," she whispered, trying to block everything out.

            "Keshli!  Open your eyes!"  The words were snapped out with parade-ground precision; before Keshli had a chance to think about it, her eyes were opened.

            Han and Leia stood behind Jaina, eyes horrified, holding each other for support.  But Jaina dominated everything Keshli could see.

            "Nothing I could ever do can change what I've done," she said flatly.  "Nothing Kyp can do can ever erase the fact that he's killed billions.  But most people can look at us and see past that.  You . . . you're too afraid to."

            "I'm not afraid!" Keshli cried.

            "You . . . are . . . afraid," Jaina said, emphasizing every word.  "You look at us and see Dark Jedi.  You look at us and see something evil.  Something that could taint you, make you fall yourself."

            "I don't," Keshli denied, though Jaina spoke the truth.

            "You don't see Jedi," Jaina continued ruthlessly.  "You don't see us as people.  You don't see someone who feels and bleeds.  You just see someone who is a danger to you, someone just waiting for you to slip so they can pull you into the dark."

            "I don't," she said, eyes flickering around the room, searching for an escape.  "I don't!"  Her voice was shrill.

            "You do," Jaina said, and the human woman leaned closer, smile still tight and feral.  "That's what you're afraid of.  It doesn't matter that we've come back to the light and worked hard to redeem ourselves.  It doesn't matter how much we've suffered trying to earn respect again.  It doesn't matter because you're afraid."

            All the anger, all the fear that Keshli had desperately been trying to ignore finally broke loose.  "I'm not afraid!" she shrieked, and saw Han pull Leia back.

            "You're afraid," Jaina contradicted cooly.  She still stood her ground.  "You haven't met my eyes yet.  I don't think you would be able to shake my hand if I offered it to you.  I'm not here to turn you to the Dark Side.  Neither's Kyp.  But you're too afraid of what we were to see beyond that.  You're too afraid of what we _were_ to see what we are now.  You're too afraid that you might fall to actually recognize that we're living, breathing people trying to help you.  We deserve a chance, but you're too afraid to give it to us."  She surveyed the younger Jedi, and Keshli heard her contempt.  "You're a coward."

            She was on her feet before she could think.  _Crack!_  Keshli's hand lashed out and connected with Jaina's cheek.  The older woman stumbled a step back from the force put into the blow.  Keshli looked down at her hand in horror.  What had she done?  She had given in to her anger, her hate, her fear . . .  Anger was of the Dark Side!  Had she just taken her first step down the wrong path?  She sank into the chair once again, trying not to cry.

            Keshli raised her eyes up to Jaina's face.  The left half of Jaina's face was red, and there were four cuts across her cheek where Keshli's long fingernails had scored deep.  But now there was grudging respect in Jaina's eyes.  

            "See?" Jaina said, gently touching her face, fingers coming away bloody.  "I bleed."  She held out her smeared fingers as proof.  "I'm only human.  So's Kyp.  Give us a chance."  She reached out and took Keshli's hand in both of hers.  "The code says that there is no emotion, there is only the Force.  But there's plenty of emotion in the Force, Keshli."

            "Anger is of the Dark Side," Keshli choked out, tears streaming down her face.  "I gave into my anger."

            "I goaded you into it," Jaina said.  "But your anger wasn't of the Dark Side.  It was perfectly justified."  She let Keshli's hand fall, and Keshli wiped away her tears.  "Did hitting me make you feel better?"

            "No.  Yes," she corrected.  "For just that one second.  But then I was afraid again."

            Jaina crouched down in front of her, brown eyes serious.  "That's what the Dark Side is like.  For that instant you're striking out, you feel better.  But after you're done, you're ashamed and afraid of what you did.  You might have had a reason in the beginning- you might have been goaded into falling- but once you slap the reason down–" she smiled faintly "– you finally recognize what you've done."  Her voice changed again.  She asked briskly, "Are you glad you hit me?"

            "No," Keshli's voice was soft, but she was no longer crying.  

            "But you made me stop taunting you.  Isn't that an accomplishment?"

            "It wasn't worth it."

            "So now that you know that, if I was to start all over again, would you hit me again?"

            "No."  She curled her hand into a fist.

            "And if you knew I was going to go up to someone else and try to make them furious, would you tell that person to hit me to feel better and make me shut up?"

            Keshli's voice was almost a whisper.  "No."

            Jaina stood.  "It's all right to be afraid of the Dark Side.  It's all right to be afraid of those who are under its influence.  But I'm not.  Neither is Kyp."  One hand went up to her still-bleeding face.  "We've both struck out before with the Dark Side.  Neither of us would recommend it as a way to feel better and make the problems shut up."  She paused.  "Do you understand now?"

            Keshli looked up at her and met her eyes squarely.  There was still the vestigial fear, still the shivering along her lekku that she couldn't quite control.  But this time she looked at Jaina, really looked.  Deep within her eyes there was a well of pain, of fresh guilt.  Shocked, Keshli realized that it must have hurt Jaina to be deliberately cruel to her.

            Keshli stared at her for a long moment, mind whirling with the lesson learned.  Then she finally stood, not flinching when it put her directly in front of the older Jedi.  She reached out and deliberately took Jaina's hand.  She spoke firmly, putting her conviction into her words.

            "I'm not afraid of you."

            From somewhere behind them came Leia's sigh of relief; Han's whoosh of a held breath released.

            "Are you afraid of Kyp?"

            Kyp Durron, destroyer of worlds, perhaps the galaxy's greatest living expert on the Dark Side through personal experience.  The man chosen to train her.

            "A little," she said honestly.  "But then I'm still a little afraid of you."

            There was a flicker of sadness in Jaina's eyes, but it vanished so quickly Keshli wasn't sure if it had ever existed.  "That's probably safest," Jaina said at last.  "But can you train under him?"

            Keshli never thought she would be able to.  Now, though, the prospect didn't seem quite so daunting.  He was just like them: he could feel, he could bleed.  "Yes."  She hesitated, then ventured, "Can we not tell him about this?"

            A faint smile spread across Jaina's face.  "I think that would be best.  It would only get both of us in trouble."  Then she turned back to her parents, and the smile vanished.  Keshli felt a sudden stirring of sympathy for the woman as she faced them after recounting all her evil deeds, after goading a terrified apprentice into striking out.  "I'm sorry," Jaina said simply.  "I had to do it."

            Leia opened her arms, and Jaina tumbled into them, dress uniform and all.  Han's hand came down and squeezed her shoulder.  Jaina was shaking; it took Keshli a moment to realize that the woman was crying.

            She sank back into the plush chair.  She could bleed, she could feel, she could cry.  She was only human.  She made mistakes.

            Master Durron was only human.  He could bleed, he could feel, he could cry.  He had made mistakes.

            Was it right to punish them for their mistakes when they tried so hard to redeem themselves?  Was it fair of her to expect either one of them to suddenly urge her over to the Dark Side?

            No, she decided as Leia released her daughter and firmly sat her down, asking her husband to find her something to clean Jaina's face with.  No, it wasn't.

            The fear was still there, an echo of what it had been.  But it no longer made Master Durron or Jaina Solo- or even Master Skywalker or Master Solusar- loom up like invincible, impersonal monsters.

            They could bleed; they could feel.

            The Twi'lek girl slipped off the chair and moved to Jaina's side just as Han returned to the room with bacta patches.  "May I?" she asked formally.

            Leia looked at her, confused; Jaina nodded.

            She placed her hand lightly against Jaina's cheek, careful to keep her sharp nails from inflicting further damage.  Part of her mind was terrified- she was touching a former Dark Jedi!- but she squashed it down.  Keshli took a deep breath, reached for the Force, and concentrated.  Beneath her fingers, the torn skin mended, stitching itself together, until all that was left were four thin white scars- scars that would fade in a few days.

            It was a start.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	7. Chapter 7

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 7 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Jaina's cheek itched.  Keshli was a good healer; the four cuts no longer stung like mad.  The skin had knit itself together; the deep cuts were now no more than rapidly healing scar tissue.  She preferred the fast Force-healing to bacta; she preferred the scars to scabs and still-bleeding cuts.

            But they itched.

            She crossed her arms deliberately and did her level best to push it from her mind.  Keshli understood a bit better now.  It had been worth it.

            But they still itched, blast it.

            The door to the room slid open; Mara entered and made her way to the couch.  "They've just finished," she informed them, flopping onto the couch with all appearances of exhaustion.  "And your _son_," she said, making the word a complaint, "is possibly as stubborn as his father."

            Jaina's mother, to whom the remark had been addressed, allowed herself a faint smile.  "And here I thought Jaina had gotten all of Han's charm."

            "Oh, trust me, Jacen has plenty of his _charm_," Mara said.  "They'll be out in another few minutes, and then the holostations will show the final statements.  And then we'll finally be able to go relax."

            Jaina laughed.  "Relax?  Are you sure you still remember how?"

            Mara opened her eyes just long enough to glare at her.  "Quiet, youngling.  I'm inclined to dislike you because you're his twin."

            "That bad?"  Jaina wondered what Jacen and Mara had argued over.  "That must have been some disagreement.  Who won?"

            Mara sounded disgruntled.  "Me.  Eventually.  But it was harder than it should have been."

            Jaina made a mental note to congratulate her twin.  Holding out against their aunt was a real accomplishment.

            Han reached out and made sure the viewer was ready to receive the final statement.  "Anything interesting decided?" he asked, but his tone told her that Han had no hope that something interesting had occurred.  Not in politics, at least.

            Mara actually smiled.  To Jaina's eyes, she was all too pleased with herself.  "Oh yes," she said.  "Several interesting things."

            "And you're not going to tell us what," Han finished glumly.  "What's the use of a spy on the High Council if she doesn't tell us a thing?"

            It was only a few minutes later when the door slid open once more and Luke and Kyp entered the room.  Luke went immediately over to Mara and Leia; Kyp glanced around the room, and then focused on her.  Jaina felt herself tense and forced herself to relax as he crossed the room to stand before her.  He frowned and brought a hand up to trace the healing cuts on her face; the itch vanished, replaced with a surge of heat from where his fingertips touched her skin.

            "What happened here?" he asked. 

            He had noticed.  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Keshli's pale blue lekku twitch in panic.  "I hit something sharp about an hour ago," she said.  It wasn't a lie; she was just carefully omitting full details.  Keshli calmed.  "Don't worry.  Your apprentice is a talented healer."

            Kyp's eyebrows rose in surprise, and he turned his attention to Keshli.  "Then I take it you two get along well enough," he said.  "That's good.  It'll be useful."

            Keshli looked confused.  "Useful for what?"

            That small, infuriatingly superior smile spread across Kyp's face.

            "Oh, no, you don't, Durron," Jaina said, poking a finger against his solid chest.  "You know something we don't."

            "Don't I always?"  He turned back to her, and something inside twisted when he focused that smug smile on her.  "And I suppose you think I'm going to tell you."

            The urge to do something- anything- to wipe that grin off his face was growing larger by the second.  "Yes."

            Kyp considered for a long moment, then bent down toward her.  Jaina could feel his warm breath along her cheek, and couldn't keep her eyelids from lowering.  Then, "No," he said, very softly, right into her ear, and pulled back, still grinning.

            She groaned, rocked back on her heels, and turned to the one person paying them any attention.  "Keshli, help me out here."

            The Twi'lek girl looked as though she hadn't decided if she was confused or simply horrified by their behavior.  Her mouth opened, shut, and opened again before she finally managed a single syllable.  "Um."  Her red eyes flitted from Jaina to Kyp and back again, and the girl looked more confused than ever.  "How?"

            Jaina was saved the trouble of a reply by the appearance of the Galactic Alliance seal on the wall; the final statement was about to be played.  

            The newscaster was talking in the background, explaining what everyone already knew- that with President Omas's return from his tour of the rebuilding worlds, the High Council had been convened.  Her aunt had made enough room for her uncle to join her on the couch; Han had simply pulled her mother down onto his lap.  Jaina pushed Keshli onto the couch next to her father and then crammed herself between Keshli and the armrest.  Kyp, wisely, didn't even try to find a space on the overcrowded couch; he half-sat on the couch's backrest, leaning against the frame.

            Jaina wondered if anyone else noticed his hand smooth through her hair as he settled.

            The newscaster faded out, only to be replaced by a wide shot of the High Council.  President Omas began the holotransmission with a rather long speech that Jaina tuned out automatically.  She had heard enough speeches serving escort duty for Cal Omas on his tour; she didn't need to listen to another one.  With Kyp's warm presence so close behind her, it was hard enough to concentrate.  

            Then the holocam shifted to her uncle, and she forced her thoughts away from Kyp's fingers at her back to her uncle's words.

            " . . . many important decisions," he was saying.  

            "Camera always adds a few years," Han told Luke pityingly, and the couch shook as Mara reached out to hit her brother-in-law.  

            Jaina smothered her laughter and turned her attention back to the taped broadcast.  

            "Among the decisions made today, we confirmed that the Jedi will continue to aid in the reclaiming of Coruscant.  Several worlds have asked for our help, and most of them will receive what help we can."  He looked down at his notes.  "Jedi Knight Masllii'iis has been appointed ambassador to his world; we have recommended that the Senate vote to include him on the party sent to his homeworld of Alliin'aain."  He looked back up.  "Admiral Kre'fry has asked for our aid in tracking the Insh'shilan pirates.  Four of our Jedi, including Master Kyp Durron and his Dozen, have been reassigned for that pursuit."

            Jaina leaned back and craned her head nearly upside-down so she could glare up at him.  "So I'm stuck with you for a while longer," she said, keeping her voice light and teasing, all too aware that her family was watching her reaction.  But a weight had lifted off her chest.  They had more than a few days.  Kyp wasn't leaving again.  He'd still be with her.

            He must have understood her relief, because he moved his hand and tugged at the ends of her hair.  "You're going to have to learn to live with me," he informed her.  "But you're ignoring the broadcast.  Pay attention."

            She rolled her eyes and turned back to the screen.  Luke was still talking, though now he had stood.  " . . . requested to retire from the Council, I agreed.  We let her go with our thanks for her wisdom while she was with us, and hope that she now has the time to pursue her neglected work."  Her uncle paused.  "While Cighal's loss is great, we have unanimously voted in her replacement, and are pleased to welcome Jedi Knight Jacen Solo to the High Council-"

            Han's whoop of surprise drowned off the rest of Luke's words, and Han bounded up and shut off the screen.  "Jacen? _Jacen_ went into politics?"  He frowned down at his wife.  "I always knew he took after you."

            Leia ignored her husband's rant and turned to her brother.  "Luke?" she asked tentatively.

            Luke shrugged.  "Jacen has already shown a better understanding of the Force than most Jedi can ever hope to achieve.  When Cilghal asked to return to her studies, the choice was obvious."

            "Jacen," Han repeated.  "In _politics_."  He sounded a bit stunned.

            Jaina leaned back slowly.  She had once told Jacen that it was her dream to be on the High Council someday.  She had never questioned the role of the Jedi like he had; she had never abandoned the Force over philosophical matters.  He had never fallen into darkness.  For all those reasons and more, she supposed, Jacen was the perfect choice to succeed Cighal.

            She could feel his pride through their twin-bond, and sent back a quick burst of congratulations.  He reached for her, and within the pride there was a myriad of emotions: fear of failure, resignation at more duties, apprehension at taking what she had wanted, joy that he was recognized . . .  She smiled- it was impossible to stay angry with him for long- and sent back her amusement.

            "Jaina?"  Mara's voice was soft; Jaina blinked and centered herself.  Everyone, even the awkwardly out-of-place Keshli, was staring at her. 

            "Well," Jaina said, and let her smile grow.  Mara had known of her ambition to join the High Council; so had Kyp.  They would need reassurance that she was not jealous.  "I suppose this would be the time to release all the blackmail holos I've been storing up.  You know, give the media a chance to assess Jacen from all angles, so to speak."

            Her father burst into laughter and reached out to tousle her hair.  "That's my girl," he said.

            "Dad, I'm in dress uniform," she reminded him, patting her hair back into place.  

            "All the more reason to mess you up.  And you," his gaze lifted and focused on Kyp.  "You're going to keep her safe, understand?"

            She couldn't see Kyp's face, but she felt his amusement.  "If you insist."

            "Dad!  I'm _only_ a general- don't you think I might be smart enough to keep _myself_ safe?"

            Han considered her for a long minute.  "Well," he conceded, "you're smarter than your brother, at least."  He shook his head, still perplexed.  "Jacen in politics," he muttered, looking down at his wife.  "I'm sure this is all your fault."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	8. Chapter 8

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 8 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

Leia paused in the doorway and put a hand up on the frame, taking time to watch the scene before her.  The family dinner had gone well.  Having her family around her was a blessing she no longer took for granted.

            It wasn't the same family that it had been five or even ten years earlier.  They had all changed.  There were new members and missing members, but despite everything, they were still a family.

            Han was still Han; maybe a little slower, maybe a little greyer, maybe with a few more wrinkles, maybe closer to old age than he'd like to admit.  But he was still the man she loved, the only man she could imagine sharing her life with.  Besides, just as he had aged, so had she.  They were no longer young.  Even their children were grown up- or just gone.  Anakin's absence no longer hung over her, coloring every her every thought and action.  But it was times like this, times when she had her two other children home, when she missed him the most.

            Jaina and Jacen were twenty-three.  That never ceased to amaze Leia; how had over twenty years gone by when just yesterday she had been watching them learn to walk?  And soon they would be twenty-four.  Time flew ceaselessly on.

            And change rode just behind time.  Jacen laughed at something his wife said and draped an arm over her shoulder.  He had married just after the war had ended, to a woman that he had grown up with.  Leia respected Tenel Ka immensely.  Respect had grown into affection; her daughter-in-law was a woman Leia was proud to call a friend- although having the Queen of Hapes as a daughter-in-law was something of a shock.

            Jacen had left after the war to start exploring the ways of the Force.  The first place he had gone was the still-recovering planet of Dathomir, both to aid in the recovery and to learn from the witches.  Tenel Ka had been there, retreating from the Hapan politics she was now the center of, and somehow the two had met up.  

            They had been married barely two months later.  Han had gone around cracking bad rancor jokes and reminiscing.  Leia saw the irony in it, but refused to give into the desire ask Jacen if any kidnapping had been required. 

            So now the Solo family had been expanded by two: Tenel Ka and Veren.  Just the idea of her little boy being a father was enough to give Leia pause.  But Veren was a joy: he had his mother's red hair and his father's eyes, but each time those brown eyes lit up with joy Leia was strongly reminded of Han.  The thought always made her smile; if Veren turned out anything like his grandfather, she feared for the sanity of Hapes' politicians.

            The little boy shrieked with laughter as Han tossed him high in the air; Han was grinning like an idiot.  He might complain about being a grandfather, but Leia knew he enjoyed every minute spent with his grandson.  Han would spoil Veren rotten if he could.  

            Han called out to Jaina, and she caught Veren easily as Han dropped him onto her lap.  Veren wrapped small arms around her neck and burrowed into her, secure in his welcome in his aunt's lap.

            Leia couldn't keep the smile from her face.  Jaina looked happy for the first time in a long time.  Of all her children, Jaina had never been the one she worried over when they were young.  That had changed during the war, when Jaina had been the one to slip and fall to the Dark Side; after war, she had seemed such a shadow of her former self that all of Leia's maternal instincts had come to the fore.  Jaina was the one that Leia worried over now; she supposed that it made up for the years of not worrying when Jaina was younger.

            Jaina shifted Veren's weight and replied to whatever sally her father had tossed at her.   She sat in the chair across from her father; Tenel Ka and Jacen were sitting together on the couch.  Even as a part of the group, Jaina somehow seemed apart to Leia's eyes.  Somehow lonely, out of place, separate- even with her nephew clinging to her like a burr, even as she was laughing and talking with her family.  

            For a few years, Leia had been sure that she would be welcoming Jagged Fel to a gathering like this.  She wasn't quite sure what had happened between the Chiss pilot and her daughter, but whatever it was had occurred nearly two years ago.  She couldn't say that she was disappointed that Jaina and Jag hadn't married.  In fact, she was a little relieved that their relationship had died down to friendship: Jag was a decent, handsome, and honorable young man.  He just didn't belong with her daughter.

            But since whatever romance he had shared with her daughter had ended, Jaina hadn't even made attempts to find someone else.  Not because she was pining for Jag- at least, Leia didn't think so- but more because Jaina just couldn't seem to motivate herself to try.  It worried Leia.  She understood that some people could go through life on their own, perfectly content not to be tied down to one person.  But Jaina wasn't one of them, not in Leia's mind.  Not when, with a mother's eyes, she could feel the emptiness inside her, see the loneliness.

            Leia wondered vaguely if she should send Jaina to Dathomir.

            Jacen turned toward her, putting an end to her musings.  "Come on, Mom, sit down," he encouraged.

            She smiled at her all-grown-up little boy, and moved away from the door frame.  "I suppose I should.  I've just been thinking."

            "What, again?" Han asked, moving to wrap his arms around her.  "I told you, no thinking allowed tonight."

            She laughed and rested her head against him.  "It was good thinking," she promised.  "I was thinking how glad I am to have everyone here."

            "Yeah," Han agreed.  "Okay.  That type of thinking is allowed."  He pulled her over to the couch, but before he could force her to sit, the comm unit beeped.  He looked pleadingly down at her.  "Uh, sweetheart, I'm allowed to ignore that, aren't I?"

            "You are," she said with a sigh, ducking out of his arms.  "But your children aren't.  I'll answer it."

            Leaving Han grumbling behind her, she moved to the wall unit and opened the link.  To her surprise, rather than a member of the military for Jaina or a Hapan diplomat for Jacen and Tenel Ka, Kyp Durron's face appeared.

            "Leia," he said.  "Can I have a word with Jaina?"

            Han's hand descended on her shoulder.  "Only if it's quick, kid.  We were about to compare embarrassing childhood stories."

            Kyp's lips twitched.  "No more than a minute," he promised.  

            Jaina stood and moved over to the wall unit, twisting Veren to her hip so that she could see the screen.  "What do you want now, Master Durron?" she asked, the smile on her face easily audible in her voice.

            His smile spread to match hers.  "Nothing much, Goddess.  I just got our ship assignment; Command said that you were still off-duty and unreachable, but I figured you'd want to know."

            "Yeah, thanks.  Where are we going to be based?"

            "Both our squads are launching from the _Nightfall_," he said.  "That's commanded by Captain Meirsin."

            Jaina frowned.  "The _Nightfall_?  I thought that the _Interceptor_ was going to be the main ship."

            "Secondary ship," he corrected her.  "That's where Octa and De'zarin will be."

            "All right."  Her frown vanished; Veren turned his head to gaze at the screen.  "I'll talk with you tomorrow when we launch."

            "All right.  Have a good time with your family, Goddess.  Sorry to interrupt."

            Jaina reached down and toggled the screen off, then returned her hand to Veren's back.  "The _Nightfall_," she repeated thoughtfully.  

            "It's a good ship," Han said.  

            "Yeah.  But I haven't served on her before."  She shrugged.  "I guess I don't have to deal with it until later tonight when I'm back on duty."

            Leia reached up to tuck loose hair behind Jaina's ear before Veren could catch it in his hands.  "It was good of Kyp to tell you," she agreed.  "How are you two doing these days?"

            Jaina rolled her eyes and moved back to her chair.  "That seems to be the question of the week," she said.  "We're doing fine.  We're friends still."  A strange, bemused smile played across her face.  "Partners.  Whatever that means.  He's agreed to help me sort some things out."

            "Is that a good idea?" Han asked.  "Kyp's never really been known for being good at that sort of thing."

            Jaina shrugged again, unconcerned.  "He helped me before.  He understand what's wrong with me."  Then a hand came up to touch the nearly-faded scars along her face, and when she spoke again, her voice was somber.  "He knows what I've gone through."

            "All right," Han said dubiously.  "If you say so." 

            Leia laughed, threaded her fingers through his, and tried to draw their daughter out of the pensive mood she was falling into.  "He still calls you 'Goddess', Jaina.  I thought you were done with the Trickster."

            Leia's ploy worked; Jaina grinned and gave the drowsy Veren back to his mother.  "Yes, I am.  But Kyp says it's a hard habit to break.  Are we going to share blackmail stories now?"

            "Yeah," Han chimed in.  Like father, like daughter, Leia reflected wryly.  "Come on, Princess, enough thinking."

            Leia stared at her husband, voices ringing through her head.

            _"Have a good time with your family, Goddess."_

_            "Come on, Princess, enough thinking."_

_            "Kyp say's it's a hard habit to break."_

            And then, like an echo of times long gone, a snatch of conversation long forgotten rose to the front of her mind.

            _"Would you please stop calling me that?"_

_            "Sorry, Princess, too late."  A roguish and much-loved grin hovered before her face in the memory.  "Habit."_

            She blinked.  Han was looking at her, a frown creasing his forehead, concern etched into his expression.  "Honey?  You all right?"

            "Fine," she managed, and smiled.  "Fine.  Who's going to start the blackmail?"

            But even as stories were shared and laughter rang out, Leia was pondering the connection, listening to voices bouncing off her head.

            _Princess._

_            Goddess._

            She glanced at her daughter, who was currently leaning forward listening to her father's recollection of a spice trip.

            She wasn't sure if she liked the direction her thoughts had taken.

            _Princess._

_            Goddess._

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	9. Chapter 9

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 9 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

He loved her to the point of distraction.  Her face would appear each time he closed his eyes; he found himself thinking of her even when she was worlds away.  Now that they were on the same ship it was worse.  She intruded into his mind during his waking moments; when he slept, his dreams were of her.  It had been this way before, years ago when they had last worked together; absently, Kyp wondered if a day had gone by in the past five or six years if he had somehow not thought of her.

            No, probably not, he conceded.  It had been her constant presence in his mind that had finally made him accept that he loved her.  He hadn't been able to keep his thoughts from passing over her; he still lingered over his memories of her in his spare time.  She had settled comfortable into his mind, and there she would stay.

            Not that she had consciously decided to do so; Jaina probably was still unaware of how much he treasured her.  In his thoughts, in his dreams, she was his.  Even if she never would be his anywhere else, in his mind he could claim her for his own.

            At the moment, it was hard for him to remember quite _why_ he wanted her, why he loved her.  She looked down at him curiously, and repeated herself.  "No."

            Kyp ran a hand through his hair in frustration.  "She's my apprentice," he pointed out.  

            Jaina simply shrugged and returned her attention to her X-wing.  She was crouching behind the cockpit, half inside the astromech's space, tinkering with something that was staining her fingers black.  "So ask her," she said, voice slightly muffled as she was no longer leaning over the side of the X-wing to speak with him.  "And it didn't really have anything to do with you _or_ the Force, so unless your apprentices are now no longer allowed to have conversations with friends, I don't see why you need to be concerned about it."

            "Liar," he snapped back at her.  "I've told enough lies to recognize one when I hear it.  Whatever you two talked about changed the way she's been learning from me."

            At this Jaina closed whatever panel she'd been working on and glared down at him.  "Just because _you_ lie at any given opportunity doesn't mean the rest of us operate on the same principle, Durron."

            He stepped forward and met her gaze with his own unflinching stare.  "I want to know what you told her."

            "Tough luck.  Go try and intimidate someone else.  I'm sure all you have to do is walk out of here glaring like that and Keshli will be convinced you've gone over to the Dark Side and immediately tell you everything she's ever known to get you to leave her alone."  Derision thickly coated her words.  "You don't always get what you want, Kyp.  Learn to live with it."

            Why did he love this woman?  Why couldn't he love someone quiet, someone calm and peaceful, someone who didn't so enjoy ripping pieces out of him, someone who respected him enough to answer a simple question?  Why did he love some spitfire flygirl of a Jedi who had to make everything difficult?

            "I don't need this lecture," he bit out.  "Not from a spoiled Jedi brat who's had everything she's ever wanted handed to her on a silver platter."

            He turned away, but a muffled thud made him look back.  Jaina had dropped from her X-wing to the bay floor; she rose from her crouch and advanced on him, anger etched into each movement.

            Kyp couldn't move.  Desire roared through his blood; he forced it back. _Oh yeah_, he thought, faintly amused. _This is why I love her._

            Jaina was furious with him.  Temper brought color to her cheeks and a bright reckless light to her eyes; she was breathing quickly, as though she had run the length of the docking bay.  She stalked over to him and punctuated each sentence by poking a finger into his chest.  "If you think I'm spoiled, think again.  If you think I've gotten everything _I've_ wanted, think again.  It's time to reevaluate, Durron.  Life's not fair.  Get used to it."

            He caught her right hand on its last emphatic descent, and instead of forcing her back, as she clearly expected, dragged her closer.  His left hand darted out and trapped her other hand, and he wrapped his arms around Jaina as he pinned her hands behind her back.  "You're really quite beautiful when you're angry," he told her conversationally, mouth inches away from her forehead.

            Her eyes spat brown sparks.  "Well then," she gritted from between clenched teeth, "you're about to see me _really_ gorgeous.  Let me go!"

            "No."  And he bent down and captured her lips with his, a conqueror claiming victory.  For half a second she struggled against him, but then, with a small moan, her lips parted and her body melted against his.  He kissed her roughly, plundering her mouth, Jaina willingly offering herself up to him.  

            He abruptly raised his head and looked down at her.  Her eyes were closed; she sighed softly as they fluttered open to look up at him.  Before her anger would return, Kyp spoke.  "Will you tell me now?"

            Her lips curved in a purely feminine smile.  "No."

            He kissed her again, but the heat had gentled into warmth.  This kiss was lazy; he lingered over her mouth, the softness of it, her warmth, turning each subtle movement of lips and tongue into a caress.  His head felt light when he finally released her lips; Jaina was leaning against him as though her legs would no longer support her.

            This time she spoke first.  "Kyp . . ."  Wonder and confusion mingled in the way she said his name.  "Why . . .?"

            He smiled and let his hands release hers to come up and frame her face.  "I think I've reevaluated, Jaina," he told her quietly.  "And I guess you won't tell me what you were talking to Keshli about while I was in Council."  He kissed her lightly, quickly, and released her.  "So I suppose I should stop bothering you."  

            "Probably a good idea," Jaina agreed, and though her voice was a bit weak and she wobbled the first couple of steps, she turned back to her X-wing.  "And I don't think Keshli would appreciate it if you used that same form of persuasion on her to try and get her to tell you what we talked about."

            He couldn't smother his laughter; Jaina climbed back up to the top of her X-wing and glanced down at him.  

            "I think I'll reserve that particular form of persuasion for you, Goddess," he called up to her, already backing his way out of the empty hanger bay.  "I'll see you at dinner."

            She waved a hand at him in both acceptance and dismissal, and Kyp turned out of the hanger bay and into the corridor, good mood completely restored.

            Yes, he was rather glad he loved a spitfire flygirl of a Jedi.  No one else dared argue with him, and he knew that one of the things about Jaina that he'd missed most was watching her get riled up.

            Calm and peaceful was boring, anyways.

—

            Jaina watched him go.  As soon as the door slid shut behind him, she very carefully set down her tools and sat down.  One hand went up to her mouth.  He'd kissed her once before, in one of the G_uardian_'s conference rooms about a week ago.  But that had been when she had all but thrown herself at him, sure that his absence had been the reason why she had felt so empty.  Since that first kiss they had eased back into the easy familiarity they had once shared with each other- she was comfortable with his arm around her, with the embrace given during a dance.  It was almost relaxing to know he was in the same room as her, to have him brush against her or touch her cheek or take her hand.

            She was no stranger to kisses; Jag had kissed her before, too many times for her to remember.  Jag's kisses were, in essence, not so very different from Kyp's.  Then why did she feel as though her experience with Jag hadn't adequately prepared her for Kyp?

            Jaina sighed and leaned back against her ship, eyes closing.  She could have quite happily let Kyp continue kissing her until dinner.  Though, she admitted wryly, if someone had chosen to enter the hanger while the two of them had been locked together . . .   It was an idea Jaina preferred not to think about.  The _Nightfall_ wasn't that big of a ship, and she and Kyp were the commanders of the only two fighter squadrons on board.  Every member of the crew would have known what had happened within minutes.

            And that was an unwelcome prospect, because Jaina herself was still wondering just what had happened.

            She'd been nearly ready to go for her lightsaber over an insult that she'd had thrown at her dozens of times before.  The reasons behind that were still sketchy; she supposed it was the fact that it was Kyp Durron who had insulted her that had made her so angry.  He seemed to be able to effortlessly take her to the extremes of emotion, from hate to anger to joy to love.

            Jaina paused, and rewound her mental reasoning.  Hate to anger to joy to . . . love?

            She thought she understood love.  Her parents loved each other.  They had been married over twenty-five years, and Jaina knew they had loved each other long before they married.  Their love was easy, comfortable, and obvious to everyone who knew them in its intensity.  It was the kind of love that Jaina had been hoping to find with whoever she would marry.  When she had realized that she and Jag would never be able to have such a relationship, it had been both a disappointment and a blessing.  They hadn't married, and Jaina knew that they both were happier apart than they would have been together.  Jag was even starting to figure things out for himself; Jaina smiled faintly and wondered how much longer it would take before he would really see Shawnkyr right in front of him.  She loved the man, really she did, but he was rather blind.

            Her smile faded.  She did love Jag, much the same way she loved her friends from the war: Zekk, Tenel Ka, Lowie, Tahiri, Tekli, Tesar, even Sharr and Piggy.  No one could blame her if Jag was perhaps a bit closer to her heart than anyone but her family.

            Jaina frowned.  By all rights, Kyp should have been there, among the list of those friends she loved.  But he wasn't; he hovered, separate, in a category all to himself.  It was easy to catalogue the others, easy to admit that she loved them.  Kyp . . . Kyp was more difficult.  Kyp she didn't know what to do with.

            But the look in his eyes when she had marched up to him . . .  Oh, she had been furious and she had ignored it, but she wasn't blind.  Her heart had nearly stopped; she had to hide her shiver of awareness with her anger.

            Remembering, Jaina shivered again.  She'd always thought that Kyp was handsome; she seemed to have a weakness for dark hair and intense green eyes.  But having his green eyes smoldering dark and hot and focused only on her was an experience she'd never considered before.  She'd hugged him before; she'd seen him practicing with his lightsaber shirtless–  her lips quirked up; that had certainly been an education–  she'd known he was strong.  But knowing he was strong, feeling that strength contained in a hug . . .  Those were completely different from having strong arms tightly locked around her, completely separate from being pressed against a hard male body.  Kyp had made her feel weak, but she thought it was excusable.  Knowing something and being confronted with the reality of it were two separate issues.

            And oh, the reality.  

            Flushing, Jaina quickly dropped her hand from her mouth and forced herself to stand.  Kyp was complicated.  She'd known this for years.  Why should she expect him to suddenly become simplified after a kiss?

            Two kisses, her body reminded her.  Well, three if she counted that last brush of his lips against hers.  Two very _good_ kisses.

            _Shut up_, Jaina snarled at herself, half horrified, half amused. _Ship.  Think on the ship.  You don't want to have your engines blow out fighting pirates._

            It was hard work to pry her mind off of Kyp, and even once she immersed herself into the engine work, he was distracting.  Distracting enough that the memory of being completely surrounded by his arms was enough to make her lose concentration and cut her fingers on the center fuel pump, something she'd never been stupid enough to do before.  

            Cursing mildly under her breath, she dropped back down to the hanger bay floor and groaned to herself as she leaned against one of the X-wing's landing struts.

            This could be serious trouble.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


	10. Chapter 10

            ~

            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

            ~

            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

            ~

            ~

            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 10 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

            ~

            As always, reviews are appreciated.

            ~

            ~

It was something of a contradiction, Jaina thought as she absently tapped her datapad against the table.  The best briefing rooms had huge transparisteel windows so that space could be visible to those within.  She adored those conference rooms where she could see the stars or the swirling colors of hyperspace.  She sought them out for her meditation; she did her best thinking in darkened briefing rooms, simply staring out of the stars.

            But she disliked actually briefing her pilots in one of those coveted rooms.  She loved the room when it was dark and cold and quiet, when the transparisteel was clear as crystal and she could see the darkness of space lit up by tiny pinpricks of stars.  She didn't like the room when it was bright and warm and loud, when the faces of her pilots reflected back at her from the transparisteel and she had to turn her back on the view.

            She was sure that there was an irony in that somewhere.  Her brother would swear that it was symbolic of something.

            She smiled at the thought of Jacen, and forced herself to relax and stop fiddling with her datapad.  It was just another briefing.  She couldn't count high enough to begin to list all the briefings she had lead, much less attended, within the past eight years.  She had no reason to be nervous.  And yet whenever she stood in front of a group of her pilots, waiting for the briefing to start, it seemed as though her stomach went through evasive maneuvers. 

            Kyp Durron shifted beside her, leaning against the same table she had propped herself against.  "But you're always fine once the briefing starts," he said, voice too quiet to carry past the small stage where they stood.

            She winced.  "Damn it, Durron, stay out of my head."  It took half a second for the sentence to sink in; once it had, she did her best not to wince again.  "Sorry.  I think I was channeling Aunt Mara for a minute."

            But Kyp just chuckled.  "You studied under her.  I'm not surprised you picked up some of her habits."  He paused, then added, "I wonder what you picked up from me?"

            Her mouth twisted wryly.  "Impatience, a dislike of authority figures, the ability to mess with people's minds, and a tendency to find dark corners where I can stand and brood."

            His chuckle turned into an outright laugh, and a few of the pilots glanced up at them.  "I don't know if I've been insulted or complimented."

            "Take it for what you will."  Her last two pilots slipped into the room, and Jaina felt the tension drain from her as she straightened up.  Raising her voice so that it carried past the stage, she began.  "Well, now that we're all here, we can begin.  Welcome aboard the Mantellian Cruiser _Nightfall_.  You've had six hours to get settled, so now the real work is going to start."

            Jaina paused and looked around the room.  "We are part of a Galactic Alliance task force created to neutralize the growing threat of the Insh'shilan pirates.  The task force has been split-" _against my better judgement_, she mentally growled, but didn't say so aloud "-to increase our chances of engaging the pirates.  The _Nightfall_ is our primary base of operations, and we have flying with us as support the _Last Chance_.  The _Interceptor_ is the primary ship for the second half of our task force, and the _Conquerer_ is providing her with backup.  Green Squadron and Commander Eian's Trophy Squadron are flying from the _Interceptor_."  She stepped back to the table and put the datapad down.

            "Which means that the Tricksters and Kyp's Dozen are flying together from the _Nightfall_.  I command the Tricksters, and Jedi Master Kyp Durron commands his Dozen.  The Dozen are a voluntary unit, and in this case they have agreed to work with the Alliance Star Command at the request of the High Council and Admiral Kre'fey."  She shooed Kyp off the table and turned on the display.  The holoprojector hummed and a map of the star system appeared.  Se turned back to the assembled pilots.

            "The Insh'shilan pirates first appeared nearly a year ago.  They lie in ambush for cargo runners carrying material to worlds that are rebuilding, disable the cargo ship, and unload her before jumping to hyperspace.  Unless the cargo ship puts up a fight, there usually isn't much damage beyond that required to disable the ship.  But some cargo lines have taken to sending escorts with their ships, and that's when things get messy."  A stray wisp of hair fell from her braid as she turned back to the display; she tucked it absently away, and pressed the next projection.  

            "There isn't much known abut the pirates," she continued, as behind her flashed their symbol.  She gestured at it.  "This is emblazoned on all their ships: it's a stylized shila.  Anyone from Corellia knows a shila's a small avian known for being nasty- they've got teeth and claws that are still used as knives today.  The shila appears to be their mascot; their name, "Insh'shilan", is an old Corellian dialect which means basically "Children of the shila"."  She pressed the button again, and the screen again displayed hundreds of stars, some now lit red.  "They stage ambushes usually right when the cargo ship comes out of hyperspace- too far for the planet's defenses to help them.  These are the worlds they've hit so far."

            Jaina paused, letting the pilots connect the red worlds.  After a moment, she continued.  "As you can see, they're after materials that are being sent to rebuild planets heavily hit by the Vong.  The Alliance estimates that they've pirated enough material to set back our rebuilding by at least a year, maybe more, and they don't show any signs of stopping soon.  Because of their growing threat, this task force was created."  She switched off the holoprojector.  "Our mission is to stop the pirates.  Questions?"

            The first hand up was from one of her own pilots.  "Lieutenant," she acknowledged.

            Lieutenant Onatin Doss had spent as many years flying TIE fighters for the Imperial Remnant as she had spent flying X-wings for the Republic.  He was one of the first Imperials to become certified in an X-wing, and was one of three remaining original Tricksters.  He came to his feet with military precision.  "What ships do the Insh'shilan have to send against us?"

            "Intelligence has been able to prove that the pirates have three capital ships: two Marauders and a Nebulan-B Escort Frigate, plus a handful of other fighters.  That means about four squadrons of snubfights."

            "A handful of other fighters?" Onatin echoed, sounding severe.  "General, was Intelligence more specific?"

            Jaina frowned.  "Unfortunately not.  We're assuming that they have a few light freighters, maybe a Corellian transport or two."  

            "Thank you, General."  The former Imperial regained his seat.

            "Any more questions?"

            "Uh, Master Durron?"  The voice belonged to one of Kyp's pilots; the man stood nervously.  "How's this going to work, us being voluntary and all?"

            Kyp moved over to stand beside her.  "We are nominally flying under General Solo's command. _Nominally_," he stressed, and Jaina had to fight back a grin.  Kyp hadn't been too happy to learn that he would have to take orders from her, but she figured he had done it once before, so he could learn to do it again.  "Any contact we have with the military goes through her.  However, I am still in command of the Dozen, and she's still in command of the Tricksters."

            "And Tricksters, listen up," Jaina added.  "To simplify matters, treat Master Durron as a commander and the rest of his squad as flight officers or so.  And remember whatever respect they show you they don't _have_ to give you, so don't try to pull rank.  Command asked for Jedi to help hunt down the pirates, and so Kyp agreed to bring in his Dozen.  They're going to be living with you, flying with you, and dealing with you for the duration of the mission.  I don't- repeat, _don't_- want to have to fill out an incident report."  Her pilots settled.  "Understood?"

            Mumbled acquiescence came from around the room, and Jaina nodded.  "Good."

            Another hand went up; this one belonged to her.  "Hivi," she named, and the pilot rose.  

            "Why does Command want Jedi?" she asked.

            "The Insh'shilan are unpredictable," Kyp answered.  "They thought Jedi hunches might offer us the best chance at catching them."

            The silence stretched out.  "Any more questions?" Jaina asked.  No one moved.  "All right.  Get some rest.  Dismissed."

            The room emptied a bit slower than usual.  Jaina dealt with Ferin and the usual concerns the Captain had about the ships and the sim schedule, and then, as he left, heaved a sigh and turned her back on the chairs, facing out to the swirling colors of hyperspace.

            A few moments later, the two pilots that had been speaking with Kyp exited.  Kyp came up behind her and pulled her close, crossing his arms over her chest and holding her against his.  Jaina felt her tension drain out of her, and leaned back against him.  It was comfortable to stand there with him, simply being held.

            "That was interesting," Kyp said at last.

            A faint smile came to her lips.  "At least I survived it.  The first briefing's always the worst.  All that information– all I do is talk.  I always expect to finish and look up and find my pilots sleeping."

            She couldn't see his face, but the smile was in his voice.  "I'm sure it'll happen someday."

            "Mm."  She shut her eyes, savored the moment, and then pulled away.  "Well, at least it didn't happen today."

            "No," he agreed.  She could feel his eyes following her movements as she collected her datapad.  "Where are you off to now?"

            "Meeting with Captain Miersin," she said, moving to the door.  Kyp followed her.  "And then I finally get to sleep."  She palmed off the lights and turned toward the door.  "You should get some rest too."

            "Yeah."  But he reached out, swifter than she thought he could move, pulled her close, and kissed her.

            As he raised his head, Jaina blinked.  "What was that for?"

            She saw his green eyes glint in the darkness, saw the quick flash of teeth that meant he was grinning.  "I haven't kissed you since before dinner in the hanger bay," he informed her, stepping out into the lit corridor.  She had been right; he was grinning.  "I need _something_ to dream about."

            She kept herself from blushing through sheer strength of will, and managed to roll her eyes.  "Good night, Durron," she said drily, moving past him to the lift.

            He turned the opposite way.  "Sweet dreams, Goddess," he called back to her, and she swore he was laughing at her.

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

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	11. Chapter 11

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            This fic was originally posted on theforce.net, where I go by the screenname of SaberBlade.  If you recognize this, don't worry, it isn't plagiarized; I'm simply reposting it here also.

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            General Disclaimer:  Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and the characters belong to their respective authors.  Anything you don't recognize is mine; please respect my muse.  I don't intend any infringement with this fic; it was created because I have an abiding love for Star Wars and a wish to share my interpretation of it with the world.

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            **Details:**

            Name: Whole

            Time Frame: Post-NJO

            Pairing: Kyp Durron and Jaina Solo

            Rating: PG to PG-13

            Post: Chapter 11 of ?

            Story Status: Work in Progress

            Notes: There is a prequel, Broken, which can be found both on this site and on theforce.net.  I recommend reading it before this fic, though it isn't technically needed.  This story starts a few hours after Broken ends.

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            As always, reviews are appreciated.

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Keshli was nervous.  The hanger bay was a hive of frantic activity all around her.  Lights were flashing; alarms and warning sirens blared; mechanics were darting away from the snubfighters, fuel lines trailing in their wake; pilots were sprinting across the hanger to their X-wings and hauling themselves up the access ladders; ground crew officers were taking positions with their flashing glowrods, preparing to direct out the squadrons.

            Keshli hadn't been the first pilot into the hanger, but she had been one of the first five.  She carefully fitted her helmet on over her lekku and made a last adjustment before she laid her hands down carefully in her lap and tried not to think about what she would soon be doing.

            Her astromech– she had nicknamed it Friend, because she so often felt that it was her only one– tootled and whistled and finally settled down.  Keshli reached out and switched on her comm unit; the cackled of static was all that greeted her.  She took a calming breath and looked out on the chaos of the hanger bay.

            Kithris was kissing Breana goodbye; it was a small ritual that all the Dozen knew about, and Master Durron hadn't ever stopped the husband and wife from taking that extra minute to say what could be a last farewell.  Kithris and Breana spun apart to their separate X-wings; behind them, a Bothan was sprinting toward a white X-wing emblazoned with the black symbol of the Yuuzhan Vong's Trickster Goddess.  He nearly collided with the tech lowering his astromech in place, but regained his balance and hurried up the ladder into the cockpit.

            From her cockpit, the similarity between her squadron and General Solo's squadron was striking.  The pilots from both squadrons were a mix of races and backgrounds, all rushing haphazardly across the hanger bay to their respective snubfighters, all pulling on flightsuits and helmets, all wearing the boxy life-support units on their chests.  Keshli had thought that the difference between the two squadrons would be obvious from flightsuits alone– the Dozen's pilots wore notoriously random flightsuits, scrounged from wherever they could be found and patched up to be space-worthy.  But though the Trickster pilots all wore the dark grey flight jackets that the Alliance military issued, their flightsuits were random- a green spacer's suit there, a black Imperial fighter's flightsuit there.  Only a few wore the trademark orange flightsuit that had been the Republic's trademark since the Rebellion.

            Keshli wasn't surprised that Jaina Solo was one of the few still in orange.  The commander of the Tricksters darted across the hanger bay toward her own X-wing, for all appearances just another pilot madly racing to answer the scramble.  Her astromech had already been lowered into place; she called something to the tech as he backed away from her ship, and quickly scrambled up the ladder and over the side into her cockpit.

            Like the Dozen, the Trickster's commander had a ship that was different from the rest of the squadron.  Unlike the Dozen, the only difference between the commander's ship and the pilots' ships was purely cosmetic.  The pilots under General Solo's command all flew X-wings painted a pure white.  On either side of the X-wing's nose, the black symbol of Yun-Harla was painted, an intricate swirl of thick and thin lines endlessly entwined.  To Keshli's eyes, the symbol itself was a writhing, living mass of swirling darkness; it hurt her eyes if she looked at it for too long.  But the symbol was mercifully small, painted forward on the X-wing's noses so that the pilots still had room for their kill marks under the cockpit.  On the S-foils, Trickster squad followed normal Alliance protocol: a thick black stripe showed squad affiliations, and smaller hash marks denoted the pilot's call-sign.  The Bothan Keshli had watched earlier was Trickster Nine; the human male with dark hair who had tripped over a refueling hose in his haste was Trickster Three.

            But their commanding officer's X-wing was decorated differently.  Where her squad's ships were white with the symbol black along the nose, Jaina's ship was black.  Her kills, Keshli supposed, were impressive; there were enough to nearly cover the space left beneath the cockpit, but a few of her pilots had just as little space left as their commander.  Two white voxyn, one on either side of the ship's nose, snarled and reached out for enemies, caught mid-leap by whatever artist had painted them onto her ship.  She didn't have a thick black line and a small hash mark on her S-foils to denote her as Trickster One.  Rather, there was simply the Trickster's symbol, pure white and somehow nearly glowing against the black S-foil.  Keshli assumed that it denoted her as the Trickster herself, and wondered why Jaina continued to identify herself with the Yuuzhan Vong goddess long after the war– and her role as a psychological distraction– were over.

            She glanced at the voxyn, then at the large and prominently placed symbol of Yun-Harla, and as Jaina's canopy shut, Keshli shivered.  She knew Jaina had been flying with the voxyn for years, knew that Jaina had been identified with the Trickster-Goddess for even longer.  But still, Keshli wasn't sure she'd be able to shut herself into a snubfighter covered with pictural evidence of the might of her enemies.  She wondered if Jaina ever even thought about the statement her X-wing made.

            "Dozen, this is Lead."  Her Master's voice buzzed through her headset and Keshli abruptly called herself mentally back to where she was.  In her study of the Tricksters, she hadn't noticed that all the pilots had shut themselves in; it was time to leave.  She glanced down at her chronometer.  It had only been six minutes since the scramble, but she still winced.  Master Durron and General Solo wouldn't be happy.  True, most pilots would have been asleep when the scramble was called, but they had been expecting this for a day.  Six minutes wasn't their best time.

            She tuned herself back to the present when she realized that her thoughts had been wandering– her equivalent, she supposed, of nervous babbling.  "All right, Dozen, check in," Durron commanded.

            "Two, ready to fly," she said, even as she doubted whether or not she was truly up to this.  It wouldn't be her first space combat, but she was by no means as experienced a pilot as most of the others in the squadron.  If she wasn't Kyp's apprentice, she doubted she'd ever have been offered a position in his Dozen.  Add to the Dozen the veteran's of Solo's Trickster squadron, and Keshli felt like a complete rookie.

            Just as Twelve checked in, the bay crew began waving their directional glowsticks.  The directionals shone red, hazing and blurring into an arc of light as the suited crew prepared the ships for launch.  Keshli didn't want their job; it was hard enough to realize that cold space lurked beyond her cockpit, much less realizing that they dealt with airlessness just beyond their spacesuits.  If, for any reason, the hanger bay's magcon field failed, the crew– along with everything else in the hanger bay– would be exposed to cold vacuum.  The thought made her shudder and cinch herself in tighter.  She knew pilots who had gone EV.  Most of them lost their edge; many slowly grew to fear returning out into the vast darkness of space for fear of being lost to it.

            Keshli didn't think that she'd enjoy going EV.  It would probably wreck what little safety she felt while flying her X-wing.  Oh, she knew some pilots that had gone EV two, three, four times and remained perfectly willing to cram themselves back into another confining cockpit as soon as they stepped out of the bacta tank.  General Solo had gone EV three times, twice in combat situations; she knew that both Dozen Eight and Dozen Twelve had gone EV twice.  Dozen Four had only gone EV once.  Keshli knew that her Master had been flying long enough to have probably gone EV, but she had never dared ask him how many times.  And something kept them rushing back to the imagined safety of their cockpits, even after having a ship explode around them, even after being ejected out into the vast, airless darkness of space.

            Whatever that something within them was that allowed them to continue flying, Keshli didn't think she had it in her.  If she ever went EV– her lekku shuddered– and she managed to survive it, she didn't think she'd ever be able to fly again.

            The hanger crew, safely oblivious to the dangers of space in their suits, began to direct the X-wings out of the _Nightfall_, through the magcon field, and into the deadly blackness of space.

            "Switch over to shared channel, Dozen," Durron ordered.  Keshli twisted her comm dial until she could hear Jaina's voice commanding her squadron out of the hanger bay.  In barely two minutes, all twelve Tricksters had glided through the magcon field and out into space.

            As she fired up her repulsorlifts, Keshli took a deep breath and reached for her control yoke. _All right_, she thought, forcing herself to relax. _Time to save the galaxy._

            As laughter from both squadrons rang through her headset, Keshli realized that she had said her thoughts out loud.  Horror and embarrassment mingled, but to her surprise, her Master merely chuckled without reprimanding her for cluttering up the comm channel.  "Are you sure you haven't been spending too much time with Sticks?"

            As she passed through the magcon field and into the starry sky, "Sticks?" she asked, confused.

            Another laugh, this one feminine and light even though the grainy distortion of the comm.  "You're behind the times, Two.  I haven't been called Sticks for years.  I've moved up in the world."

            "Your callsign was _Sticks_?"  Keshli's readout board identified the incredulous voice as belonging to Trickster Five.  "When was this?"

            "Back when she was a mere mortal like the rest of us," Master Durron's said drily.  As his strange Sekotan fighter shot forward from the hanger bay into space, he added, "And you're behind the times yourself, Goddess– I'm no longer Twin Suns Two."

            There was another burst of laughter over the comm as Jaina paused and recognized her error, and Keshli wondered how the other pilots could be so cheerful, so casual, even as they closed in on a besieged cargo ship.

            "Oh, well, since you're flying under my command again, I just assumed you were Two," Solo said, her voice still teasing.  But then came the abrupt change that Keshli had witnessed before.  "Tricksters, S-foils in attack position, form up by wings.  All pilots, we have two cargo haulers, flag as friendly; a Nebulan-B Escort Frigate, a Corellian Blockade Runner, and two Skipray Blastboats, flag as enemies.  The Frigate's launching fighters now; we've probably got two squads worth of trouble heading our way."

            Keshli watched in disbelief as the larger of the two pirate ships began discharging its squadrons.  Even as the _Nightfall_ and the _Last Chance_ maneuvered into attack position, the Escort Frigate spat out pairs of cobbled-together Uglies.

            Durron's voice was steely.  "All pilots, prepare to engage."

~~

Reviews make my day!  Tell me what you think I did well or horribly.  I appreciate constructive criticism and honest appraisals…

Thanks!

-Keth

~


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